


Ghosts That We Knew

by Anya509



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Canon-Typical Violence, Discrimination, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Character Death, Omega Verse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Therapy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-01-26 16:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 105,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anya509/pseuds/Anya509
Summary: Andrew doesn’t waste time dreaming. Dreams are for people who care.Until, one day, Neil Josten walks right into Andrew’s mind and takes up residence.A story in which Andrew takes a chance, Neil learns to trust, and history is made.****An Omegaverse AU
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 316
Kudos: 819





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, for those unfamiliar with Omegaverse, it's based around the idea that there are three potential statuses one can be - alpha, beta, and omega, and the inherent societal roles (expectations, stereotypes, discrimination, etc.) that go along with that.
> 
> There is a lot of canon divergence in this fic. Mostly the same characters and histories, but with a different spin and different timelines.
> 
> Finally, please heed the tags/warnings! I'm not one to put specific TWs on each chapter, but I will at certain times. 
> 
> Happy reading!

The cell door creaked and groaned as it opened. Andrew glanced up, squinting slightly in the suddenly bright light, unable to quite make out the large figure stepping through. He could smell it though – _alpha_. Andrew tensed and sat up just slightly. 

The strange alpha came to a halt several feet from Andrew. He was older, maybe early 40’s, mostly unimpressive save for the tribal tattoos snaking around his forearms.

“Are you enjoying the accommodations here?” the stranger asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Andrew lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I've seen worse. The company leaves something to be desired. Current company is not excluded.”

“Huh. They said you were a smart-ass.”

Andrew bared his teeth in imitation of a smile.

“So,” the stranger continued, “my name is David Wymack. I’m Pack Alpha of the Palmetto Foxes and I’m here to offer you a place in my pack.”

Andrew stared. “What.” 

David crossed his arms casually. “You heard me. And don’t bullshit me that you don’t know who we are. I’m well aware of our fame.” 

“I think infamy is the word you’re looking for,” Andrew said after a few moments. “A pack full of rejects. Dirty-blooded shifters who can’t fit into society otherwise. Am I remembering correctly?” 

Andrew was mildly impressed the only reaction he got for that was a raised eyebrow. Then, “don’t think too hard on it, kid. There’s a reason I’m here talking to you.” 

Ouch. But truth. Andrew imitated David’s stance and crossed his arms. 

“Okay then, _Alpha_, woo me. Oh wait, it doesn’t matter. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m in a jail cell… so, nice meeting you. Don’t forget to shut the door on your way out.” Done with the conversation, Andrew twisted around to prop his feet on the bed, leaned his head back against the wall, and shut his eyes. A part of him buzzed with tension on turning his back on an alpha – another part of him told that part to fuck right off. 

“Are you about done posturing?” David ground out, a note of exasperation in his deep voice. “I know about the deal they offered you. Court-ordered medication – make you into a proper little submissive omega, or full acceptance into a pack. They don't offer that to most foster kids, to my knowledge.” 

Andrew stilled. 

“I’m sure they meant for Rock Creek to take you on. You’ve been living with one of their families for years now, right? The Spears? Or they could bid you out. One of those fancy East Coast packs would probably take in a wayward omega like you for the right price. In fact, I hear Evermore is actively recruiting.” 

Andrew didn’t change position. He did open his eyes and assess the threat, wondering the likelihood of punching David across the mouth before the guards barreled in. David met his gaze straight-on. 

“I’m here,” he continued, “like I said, to offer you a place in my sad pack of degenerates. Because we sure as hell seem like your best option right about now.” 

Silence settled tensely between them for nearly a minute.

“So what, you’re here to offer up yourself as my alpha? Tell me, should I go ahead and take the medication to make things easier for you? Or do you like it when they fight back?” Andrew snorted. “No fucking thanks.”

David rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. “I am most definitely _not_ offering that, you little shit. You’d come in as a member, same rights as anyone else, _not_ someone’s mate. Definitely not _my_ mate.”

It made no sense. Packs didn’t just take in members, especially not omegas, without some ulterior motive. Andrew preferred to deal with known motives. Much easier to stab your target when you know what it is.

“Thanks anyway, Alpha. I think I’ll take my chances in a cell.” Andrew gave him a mocking, two-fingered salute.

“Look, Andrew,” David said, “I don’t think you understand what it’s like in a place like this. What it’s like for an omega.”

Andrew regarded him with a flat stare. “Don’t I?”

A brief, dark expression crossed David’s face. “Then give yourself a fighting chance and come with me. I promise; no harm will come to you there.”

“Oh Alpha – David – can I call you David? You really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” Despite his blank face, Andrew felt an uncomfortable stirring in his gut. It had been a long time since another option, an alternative, had come along. Maybe this odd pack was a way out.

“Okay, I’m bored now,” Andrew said, closing his eyes again. “Have a nice drive home.”

David sighed loudly. “Think it over. I’ll drop by in the morning.”

“It’s a free country,” Andrew responded.

“Asshole,” David muttered as he pounded on the door. A few seconds later, he left, and the door clanked shut, locking Andrew in.

“Alone at last…” he whispered. Always alone. But maybe…

*******

_Two weeks later_

Palmetto wasn’t nearly as degenerate as its reputation. Apparently, they had some money, as the houses appeared neat and well-groomed, spread about in a horse-shoe pattern that swept from one end of the valley to another. In the center were several communal buildings – a supermarket, medical clinic, post office, school – a few more Andrew didn’t catch as they drove by. He did notice a decent-sized park with a playground, tennis, and basketball courts. Past the main ring of houses a thick forest and eventually mountains cushioned the pack’s territory from outside interference and unwanted visitors. The only way in – in theory – was through the official, controlled route. Andrew was almost impressed.

“If you were a 17th century warlord, you’d definitely win for best defensive position,” Andrew said.

David snorted and kept driving.

“Or not,” Andrew continued, drumming his fingers on the dashboard as he watched the scenery pass. “I mean, that’s a lot of territory to defend. What is someone wants to take a stroll over the mountains and walk right in?”

“What is this? Fucking Lord of the Rings? If the time comes we need to defend against hobbits and a wizard, I’ll let you know.”

Andrew hummed in agreement and went back to watching the scenery.

Taking care of all the legalities and paperwork had been a massive headache. Probably more so for David than Andrew, he silently admitted. Andrew’s lawyers had been less than thrilled about the whole situation, pushing hard at several occasions to make Andrew change his mind. They’d sunk so low as to bring in Cass, who’d tearfully pleaded for Andrew to stay in Rock Creek and ride out the medication sentence with them. _We’ll look after you, _she’d said. _Richard and I will make it as easy as possible. And Drake will be home soon too. You know how much he cares about you. _

It hurt, telling her no. Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, he felt her loss like a knife in the gut.

They pulled into David’s house after nearly three hours of driving. They’d flown of course, from California. The drive afterward had greatly improved Andrew’s mood and greatly soured David’s. It felt strange, being confined to a car with a (mostly) strange alpha, but Andrew’s instincts rarely failed him. Nothing about David screamed danger, or even caution, for that matter. Still, Andrew suspected he was more formidable than he came across. Pack Alphas rarely held their positions by being pushovers. And yet… he felt… if not exactly safe, then at least not on edge. He could get used to that feeling.

“Abby’s already here,” David informed him as he killed the engine. He nodded at a red sedan on the street. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you wash up first, but you might as well get the exam over with after that. I’ll figure out something for dinner. You like Chinese?”

So much for not being on edge. Andrew eyed the front door warily. Fucking exams. He understood the reason – communicable diseases among shifters were swift and deadly. Some packs had even been known to send in infected shifters to harm an enemy pack. David couldn’t risk integrating Andrew with the rest of the pack without a clean bill of health. Andrew understood. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Hi Andrew,” a woman – a beta – around the same age as David greeted them, opening the door. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’ve got the guest room ready for you upstairs – “

“Where’s the paper-covered table, doc? I’m ready now.”

Abby exchanged a brief glance with David. “I’m actually a nurse, just so we’re clear. I set up my equipment in the office. But if you want to rest or take a shower first – “

“Nope,” Andrew said. He wondered down the hall. It wasn’t a big house, so the office was clearly the cluttered room with a desk, an ancient desktop computer, and a smattering of medical equipment taking up space on a side-table. He settled on the edge of the desk and folded his arms. Abby followed him in after a moment – probably questioning her Alpha’s sanity.

“I’m going to shut the door for your privacy, alright?” At Andrew’s nod, she did so. “I don’t need to do a full physical, but if you’re comfortable removing your shirt so I can listen to your heart and check your lungs, that would be best.”

Andrew’s heart clanked against his ribs at her words. He did his best to keep his face bored and detached as he quickly pulled off his shirt and settled back on the desk.

He saw the moment Abby’s eyes saw it. You see, male omegas have a peculiar anatomy. Somewhere between the dichotomy of ‘male’ and ‘female’, they appeared physically male, while maintaining the ability to carry and deliver babies. Delivery was where the true divergence happened. It involved the painful, complicated process of the body simply forming the most convenient, efficient method of extracting a child from a womb. In the end, it looked not entirely different from a c-section scar. Andrew had such a scar stretched low across his abdomen.

“David didn’t mention you have a child,” Abby said tentatively, forcing her eyes away from the scar. “Did – “

“I don’t,” Andrew said shortly. “I don’t have any children.”

“Okay,” Abby replied. “I apologize for misunderstanding. But you have been pregnant before?”

“Yep.”

“How many pregnancies have you had?”

Andrew fixed his gaze on the wall behind Abby’s head and fought down the anger simmering beneath his skin.

“Three,” he said in a clipped tone.

Abby’s next question was tentative. “And how many live births?”

“Zero. Two miscarriages, one termination.”

“Okay.” Abby regarded him quietly for a moment, looking like she wanted to say more, ultimately deciding against it. “Thank you for being so honest. Just one more question and we’ll move on. How old were you when these pregnancies occurred?”

Ah, that question.

“13, 14, and 17.”

Andrew slid his gaze back to Abby, ready to see the shock and revulsion on her face. The judgement. Only he saw something else instead – pain. And anger.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Andrew,” Abby said softly. “And thank you for trusting me with that information. Nothing you say goes beyond this room, I hope you know that.”

“Except to your Alpha,” Andrew said, after a moment.

“Nope,” Abby shook her head. “Not even to my Alpha.”

Andrew chewed on that for a moment, still unsure around this strangely unstructured pack. Finally, he shrugged and nodded toward the tray of syringes and needles.

“Where exactly are we sticking those?”

******

The rest of the exam was relatively quick and painless. Abby chose not to comment on the scars lining Andrew’s forearms, though he could see the furrow in her brow as she drew blood.

David stayed for dinner, chatting amicably with Abby while Andrew silently observed and pushed food around his plate. The attraction between them was obvious, though unusual. Abby was definitely a beta. As the Pack Alpha, surely David had an omega mate, or would at some point. Andrew didn’t get the point of their useless flirting, but it didn’t bother him, so he said nothing.

Two days later his tests came back clean and Abby moved him into a studio apartment near the city center. Lots of younger shifters lived in these apartments – Abby explained to him – most similar to Andrew in that they’d come from outside Palmetto. Some found their way here on their own, others David actively scouted and recruited. Andrew scoffed at that. He was also secretly okay with it.

The apartment came furnished. A full-sized bed, couch, coffee table, and small kitchen table with two chairs made the space snug and oddly cozy. Andrew had never had his own apartment before. It felt surreal after Abby left and he slid the lock and deadbolt into place. He immediately pushed the bed into the corner, so he had two walls at his back, double-checked the locks, and slept the best he had in years.

******

“You’ll have to get a job,” David told him that first night at Abby’s. “The Pack takes care of everyone – no one ever has to worry about having a place to live or food to eat, but we also don’t just sit around with our thumbs up our asses. Everyone is expected to contribute.”

“Sounds like socialism,” Andrew responded after a few moments of silence. David scowled.

It was because of that conversation that Andrew found himself serving meals at the local shelter. His fellow server, a beta female with pixie-cut bleach-blond hair dipped in hot pink named Renee, smiled warmly and greeted each person who came through their line. Andrew didn’t greet anyone. He also didn’t scowl at them, so he considered that a win.

Adding to the Pack’s already odd policies, they allowed non-pack shifters to stay in a temporary shelter if they came to Palmetto for sanctuary. Some ultimately joined the pack and stayed, while many others simply moved on when they felt ready.

After nearly a month in Palmetto, Andrew felt as close to comfortable as he was likely to get. No one bothered him. Work was easy. He slipped easily into a routine. Wake up, think about exercising, work, go home, make dinner, read or watch boring documentaries on tv, sleep. Rinse, repeat.

Renee continued to intrigue Andrew. Despite her sweetly quiet persona, something about her reminded Andrew of himself. Something said “don’t fuck with me”, and Andrew appreciated that. 

Six months passed in the blink of an eye. Despite his best efforts, Andrew learned the names of most of his fellow apartment residents. There were Dan and Matt, an alpha couple who seemed entirely too cheery and friendly; Seth, an asshole of an alpha who smoked enough pot to choke a horse and didn’t know when to shut his mouth; Allison, a prissy beta whose fake blond hair and high heels screamed too-much money - she also clearly had something going on with Seth; and of course, Renee.

That night the shelter seemed unusually quiet as Andrew and Renee served their evening meal and cleaned up afterward. A large family – three kids under age 10 and two mouthy teenagers, had finally moved into a permanent home on the other side of town. The remaining residents consisted of three women, a hulking dark-haired beta with his arm in a sling, and a young omega girl whose face stayed blanketed behind her bright green hair whenever anyone walked by. Robin was her name, she was only 16, and she’d arrived here alone.

Andrew kept an eye on Robin. He didn’t miss her jumpiness or the flinch when the beta said something to her as he walked by. He narrowed his eyes slightly and watched until the man disappeared from view. Robin remained in her chair, skinny knees pulled to her chest while she stared at the tv and finished her dessert.

“Everything alright?” Renee asked pleasantly. She’d noticed Andrew’s attention.

Andrew shrugged. “Far as I know.”

Renee gave a small smile. “Okay. That’s good.”

They finished clean-up and were heading out when Renee realized she’d left her cell phone in the kitchen.

“Shoot,” she murmured. “You can go ahead, if you want. I don’t mind walking alone.”

Andrew just gave her a flat look and leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed. Since about three weeks into Andrew working there, they’d walked home together after all their shifts. No point in breaking routine now when it was only a minor delay.

Renee smiled at him again then disappeared back inside.

The wind picked up after a few minutes. Andrew shivered and blew warmth into his hands. He hated cold weather, and this dreary almost-spring bullshit needed to let up. He considered standing inside, in the heated hallway, when a sudden noise drew his attention.

Andrew froze, listening. He heard it again. Voices. One was low and agitated. The other was crying.

He moved without hesitation, quietly creeping closer to the voices. One had dropped off while the crying increased in volume. And then a meaty thunk, as a fist connected with flesh. Andrew rounded the corner of the alleyway in time to see Robin pushed to her knees on the wet pavement.

Andrew darted forward and slammed both hands into the dark-haired beta’s chest, forcing him back a few steps. The man snarled and swung at Andrew, who, used to being a target of such things, ducked easily. He kicked the man’s left knee, punched the arm held to his chest by a sling, then delivered the hardest kick he could to the man’s groin. The man howled in pain and outrage, hunching over.

Andrew spared a glance for Robin who had curled herself against the side of the building, sobbing.

And then the beta gave up all finesse as he threw himself bodily at Andrew. The beta had a good eight inches and probably sixty pounds on him. Andrew grunted as he hit the ground and the air punched out of his lungs.

“Stupid little omega bitch,” the man growled, drawing back his fist for a punch. Andrew tasted blood as his head snapped to the side.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he continued. “That’s _my_ property over there. Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

“I think the question is who the fuck do you think _you_ are?” said a quiet, deadly voice.

The beta stilled as Renee pressed her knife against the meat of his neck.

“Hands up,” she instructed calmly. “and please get off of Andrew.”

Andrew rolled to his feet, spitting a mouthful of blood. He watched in interest as Renee pressed the knife hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. The man whimpered.

“I’ve got him,” Renee said, speaking to Andrew. “If you want to take Robin inside. And you’d better call David and let him know what’s going on.”

He nodded once, eyeing the beta in disgust before kneeling down in front of Robin. She was staring at him with wide, haunted eyes.

“Let’s go,” Andrew said. “This asshole isn’t worth any more of your time.”

Robin swallowed, eyes flickering back and forth between the three of them. “They’ll come for me again,” she finally said.

Andrew shook his head. “I won’t let them. Neither will Renee.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

“Promise.”

She exhaled shakily. “Okay...”

David and several others arrived in less than fifteen minutes. True to her word, Renee kept the large beta in check, and – much to Andrew’s chagrin – alive until others arrived to haul him off.

In the meantime, Andrew sat on the dining room floor with Robin, both silently eating their way through a pint of ice cream and watching a late night game show. If either of them saw the other’s hands shaking, they didn’t say anything.

A mousy-looking therapist by the name of Betsy knocked on the entryway and stepped inside, drawing her gaze over both Andrew and Robin before settling on Andrew.

“Mind if I join you two?” she asked.

“Long as you don’t talk,” Andrew answered after a moment.

Betsy simply smiled and nodded. “I can deal with that.”

And so she did, sitting cross-legged on the floor after puttering in the kitchen for a few minutes, returning with a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Andrew looked up again awhile later as David walked in, looking tired and pissed off. He nodded toward the door and, after a moment, Andrew got up and followed him outside.

They settled side by side against the railing. David fished out a cigarette, lit it, then lit a second one to hand to Andrew.

“That was good work tonight, helping out that girl,” David finally said after half his cigarette had turned to ash. “I got the run-down from Renee, but I’d like to hear what happened from you.”

Andrew told him.

“Jesus Christ,” David cursed, shaking his head. “I screened that asshole myself. His story checked out.”

“Can’t win ‘em all.” Andrew flicked his ash on the ground.

David grumbled under his breath. “Well, anyway. Thank you. We’re moving Robin to Abby’s for the time being. If she decides to stay, we’ll figure something permanent out.”

They were both silent for another few minutes before David spoke again.

“You alright? That’s gonna be a helluva bruise come morning.”

Andrew shrugged lightly. “Could be worse.”

“Yeah,” David sighed. “I suppose it could. Look, I’m just saying… you’re doing good here. Keeping your head down and all that shit. But if you need anything, if you need to… talk… to anyone, you just have to ask. Alright?”

Andrew glanced at him sideways. “Are you offering to let me cry on your shoulder?”

David huffed. “Shut it, kid.”

Andrew and Renee walked home together after all. Neither of them spoke, both too caught up in their heads, dealing with their respective ghosts. Even so, when Renee stopped at her apartment, she offered a tiny smile.

“Good night, Andrew. See you tomorrow.”

As Andrew lay on his own bed, surrounded by his own things and his own space, he realized that, just maybe, he didn’t mind being here after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

_Two years ago_

Andrew bit his tongue at the cramp twisting his insides and hugged the pillow tighter to his belly. From his sideways perch on the couch, he could see Lawrence’s profile as he sat at the kitchen table and smoked a joint. The smell was nauseating.

“Been almost eight hours,” Lawrence said, perhaps sensing Andrew’s attention. “Pain got any better yet?”

Andrew didn’t bother answering. It wasn’t like the strange alpha actually gave a shit. Drake bought Lawrence weed and booze, and Lawrence did whatever Drake told him to. Today, it involved showing up at the Spear’s for breakfast and showering Cass with a lavish story about the expensive concert ticket Drake had sent as a surprise for Andrew – an apology for heading back overseas early that summer. Lawrence, as Drake’s best friend, was of course happy to help out and had planned the entire weekend in L.A. Andrew said little as they drove less than three miles to Lawrence’s shitty apartment. He said nothing at all when Lawrence shoved a prescription pill bag at him and left Andrew to read the directions on his own.

After dozing a while longer, Andrew rolled to his feet and padded silently to the bathroom. He checked the lock twice before twisting the shower on to the hottest setting and getting undressed. Andrew lowered himself into the bathtub and loosed an unsteady breath as the too-hot water beat down on his back. It stung and he could feel his skin reddening quickly, but he didn’t care. He gazed dispassionately at the blood swirling slowly down the drain and imagined it coming from Drake after Andrew slit his throat.

He stayed until the water ran cold and shivers raced down his spine. Even then, he didn’t move until Lawrence pounded on the door and complained he had to pee. Andrew dressed in clean, loose clothing and resumed his silent vigil on the couch.

Lawrence gave up talking to him and they spent the rest of the night and remaining morning in silence. Andrew felt marginally better by the time Lawrence dropped him off Sunday afternoon. His pulse drummed a bit quickly as Cass greeted him and pulled him into a brief hug. Andrew thought she should be able to sense the sickness and exhaustion on him. Even as a beta, she couldn’t be oblivious to the fine sheen of sweat on Andrew’s forehead and the pallor of his skin. She said nothing, and neither did Andrew. He’d learned long ago that Cass only saw what she wanted to see.

A month later Drake called his parents to let them know he’d been injured in the line of duty. Nothing too serious, he assured them, but it would require several months of rehabilitation and he preferred to do that at home, with his family’s support. Afterwards, he was requesting a post that would allow him to stay nearby. He wanted to be there for his parents, for his brother. Drake later sent a private text to Andrew saying he looked forward to spending more time together. 

That night, Andrew snuck out of the house and walked three miles across town to Lawrence’s house. He made sure no one was home, then set the house on fire. It took less than ten minutes for the cops to find Andrew sitting on the curb outside. They hauled him away in handcuffs and a harsh promise to lock him away for good. He hoped they kept their word.

*******

Two years later, Andrew sat outside on a different curb, a cigarette dangling from his fingers and a fidgeting alpha by the name of Kevin sitting beside him. Kevin’s head jerked up every time a distant car passed and his eyes widened in fear until it faded away. Andrew grew bored of this quickly and flicked ash at Kevin.

“It’s a private road. I already told you no one knows this is down here.”

Kevin shot him an irritated glance. “You don’t understand. They’re looking for me and a sign isn’t going to dissuade them.”

“Must mean you’re pretty special,” Andrew said mildly. His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Kevin, who looked more annoyed. Better than afraid.

The cabin was private, as Andrew said. It sat back only a half mile from the highway however and would be easily found by someone who knew what they were looking for. David had been gone over an hour, settling up paperwork that documented Kevin’s legal petition of an emergency transfer to the Palmetto pack. As an alpha, Kevin could request such things, move packs of his own volition. But his volition would mean nothing if Evermore caught up with him before the transfer was complete.

Andrew knew enough about the Evermore pack to know he didn’t like them. Aside from being powerful and well-connected, they publicly participated in shifter bidding – a fancy term for trafficking, in Andrew’s opinion. They built their pack on pristine genetics and absolute control. Kevin had grown up with them, flaunted as the privileged companion of the pack Alpha’s son, Riko. In truth, Kevin was little more than a slave.

Three nights ago, Kevin approached David at a regional Pack conference in Atlanta. He kept his left arm carefully tucked behind his back, which Andrew noticed immediately. For all he knew, Kevin had a gun or a knife poised, and Andrew wasted no time grabbing Kevin’s arm and twisting it roughly into view. Kevin’s keening wail of pain combined with the sight of his mangled hand was enough for David to drag him aside and demand answers in private.

Tires crunched over gravel as a car approached the cabin at a fast speed. When he returned, David would approach from the back entrance. This car was coming down the front drive. Andrew stilled, stubbed out his cigarette, and stood. Kevin jumped to his feet and looked close to hyperventilating as a sleek, black SUV rolled into view. Definitely not David.

“No, no no,” Kevin muttered under his breath, stumbling back a step. Andrew didn’t turn around, but he heard the cabin door open as Matt and Dan joined them outside.

Riko Moriyama stepped out of the SUV, joined by two other men in matching black suits. Riko flicked a disinterested look at Andrew and immediately started toward Kevin. Andrew neatly side-stepped, cutting him off and blocking Kevin partially with his body. Riko rocked to a halt, glaring at Kevin.

“Kevin, come here now,” Riko ordered.

Andrew crossed his arms and stepped fully in front of Kevin. “Kevin slipped his leash,” Andrew said. “Didn’t you hear? You don’t get to order him around any longer.”

Riko finally turned a disgusted look on Andrew. “Why are you speaking to me, omega? This is none of your business. Get out of my way.” He flicked his fingers in dismissal. His face momentarily blanked in disbelief when Andrew didn’t budge.

“Kevin,” Riko snapped. Andrew felt Kevin flinch behind him. “Don’t make me say it twice. And get this mutt out of my way.”

“Try again,” Andrew said in a bored tone. “Kevin’s a mutt now too. And mutts don’t take orders from assholes like you.”

Kevin gasped in horror while Riko’s face contorted with rage. Riko stepped forward with a snarl, one hand raised to strike. He froze at the last second, breathing shallowly against the knife Andrew had pressed to his throat.

The two black suits moved forward in alarm, stopping just as quickly at Riko’s silent signal. Matt and Dan moved closer as well. Andrew could see them in his peripheral vision as he considered the shocked outrage on Riko’s face.

“How dare you,” Riko spat, “do you have any idea who I am?”

“Do know, don’t care,” Andrew said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Someone who breaks their toys doesn’t get them back.”

“You stupid little child, you are going to regret – ” Riko snapped his mouth shut when Andrew pressed the knife down just hard enough to draw a razor-thin line of blood.

“I get the feeling you’re not good at listening,” Andrew continued. “Let me explain. Kevin isn’t yours. He isn’t going with you. Not now. Not ever. If you come for him again, you’ll have to go through me. Got it?”

Andrew dropped the knife and stepped back out of Riko’s reach. Riko continued to glare at him in stunned disbelief before returning his attention to Kevin.

“You’re going to let this omega speak for you, Kevin?” Riko laughed. “Have you really fallen this far? I’ll only say it one more time. Come here. _Now_.”

“No,” Kevin croaked weakly. It was barely audible, so he said it again. “No, I’m not part of your pack anymore.”

Pure, unfiltered rage flashed across Riko’s face. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, the welcome sound of a second car pulling up around back drew his attention. Riko lacked the authority to question a Pack Alpha, so he clenched his jaw shut hard at the sight of David stomping toward them.

David stopped beside Andrew and glanced around at Riko and his men with a scowl.

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing here?” David asked.

Riko glared daggers while he considered his words. “Alpha,” he greeted formally, though his tone held no hint of respect. “I’m retrieving a wayward member of the Evermore pack, as I think you know.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Only people I see here are legal, _documented_ members of my pack. You have no authority over them, so I suggest you leave my property before the authorities get involved.”

Andrew wordlessly twirled the knife in his fingers and felt a small, savage stab of satisfaction as Riko’s eyes flickered with fear.

“You will regret this, Kevin,” Riko growled. He climbed into the SUV and slammed the door hard enough to shake the frame. His men joined him, and they peeled out moments later.

“Fuck,” Kevin breathed, covering his face with one hand and sagging. David caught his bicep and gave him a once-over.

“Take him to the car,” David directed Matt and Dan. “We’re getting the hell out of here.” After they left, escorting a shaking Kevin between them, he turned his attention to Andrew. “You have a hard-on for pissing people off?”

Andrew shrugged and carefully sheathed his knife. He made a note to tell Renee thanks for letting him keep them.

David shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. “You owe me a drink when we get home.”

Andrew accepted that with a nod and followed him to the car.

*******

Several months before Kevin came along, Andrew learned some important information about the Palmetto Foxes. First of all, none of them were actual fox shifters. For whatever reason, fox shifters were extremely rare – rumored to have died out completely in some circles – yet foxes were said to be the most powerful shifters of all. Not because of brute physical strength or any particular advantage nature had given them, but because they were the ultimate survivors. Clever, cunning, and mischievous, a fox could outsmart them all, adapt to any situation, bounce back from the worst of circumstances. Some considered them the ultimate tricksters, while others thought of foxes as the embodiment of chaos.

It seemed fitting, that David claimed the title of “Fox” for his pack. 

Andrew learned another important thing one night after walking home from work with Renee. David met them at the apartment entrance and waved Renee on ahead. She said goodnight with a small smile and David gave Andrew a secret.

Not only did David recruit and offer a home to down-and-out shifters, he also dedicated himself to rescuing those who couldn’t help themselves. Sometimes that meant skating the edge of legality, and sometimes that meant plowing clean through that line and pulling a mother and her three children from an abusive home in the middle of the night. In those situations, the Foxes crafted up new identities and sheltered those in need until an allied, vetted pack could offer up a new life. A bit like an illegal witness protection program.

Everyone knew about it. Though, like Andrew, when they found out varied greatly. Andrew had been a member of the Palmetto Foxes for approximately seven months when David told him. To Andrew’s amusement, David wanted him involved in the less legal side of things and thought having an omega on the team would make approaching outside omegas easier. Andrew didn’t agree with the latter notion. Nevertheless, he sat in on the next team meeting.

Around the one-year mark of his move to Palmetto, Andrew received a letter from his cousin Nicky. They had never met each other face to face, but they both knew of the other’s existence because of Luther, and of course, Aaron.

Tilda died face-down on the bathroom floor of her shithole apartment in Columbia, South Carolina with pool of vomit around her head. An accidental overdose, according to Nicky. Andrew didn’t care about that. The rest of the letter did catch his attention. 

As an eighteen-year old, Aaron was legally a member of the same primitive, backward pack as his aunt and uncle. As an omega with no legal guardian, Aaron now had two choices: choose an alpha mate or leave. Nicky, a beta, was only there to support Aaron, and had no grounds to offer him alternate pack membership where he lived in Germany. Nicky didn’t have any particular requests or expectations in the letter, but the ask was painfully clear.

Andrew brought Nicky and Aaron to the Foxes with David’s blessing (combined with a mighty eye-roll at learning Andrew had a twin – “There’s seriously two of you? Gonna have to drink twice as much now.”) Aaron was a mess and walked around like a haunted zombie even after Andrew forced him through detox. Nicky was annoyingly enthusiastic and quickly learned not to hug Andrew.

And so the Foxes grew.

Robin stayed and became Andrew’s quiet shadow. She ended up working at the shelter as well, picking up the extra shifts whenever Andrew was away. Andrew didn’t need to ask Renee to look out for her during those times – their trust and understanding was implicit.

The final thing Andrew learned before Kevin came along was about talking. Not to most people – Andrew couldn’t be bothered with the majority of those he interacted with – but to Betsy, Bee, that was a different story.

Andrew went into heat only two to three times a year. Some shifters experienced it a much higher frequency, so he should consider himself lucky. He didn’t.

At his own request, Andrew spent the duration of his heat in Abby’s guest bedroom. He couldn’t deal with the close proximity of the others in the apartments, even with extra locks on his door. Abby didn’t bat an eye when Andrew showed up on her doorstep with a backpack and a fever. She gave him medicine to help ease the symptoms, an endless supply of water and bland foods, and lots of space.

On a particularly crappy afternoon there, Andrew lay curled in bed starring blurrily out the window when someone knocked softly on the door. When it creaked open a minute later, it was Betsy, not Abby, who stood there with a to-go box and mug of tea.

“Hi Andrew,” Betsy greeted. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. Abby got caught up with a patient and asked me to drop off some dinner for you. Is it alright if I come in?”

“Yep,” Andrew said, watching closely while Betsy set the food up on a dinner tray and pulled the teabag out of the mug. He didn’t sit up, so she set the tray down on the dresser and smiled at him.

“Heats are always difficult,” Betsy said. “Not that I would know from experience,” she added at Andrew’s unimpressed look. “But I do work with many omegas, and I’ve heard just about everything. If you need any support at all, please know that I’m around.”

Andrew refrained from rolling his eyes as the unsubtle attempt to recruit him to therapy. He’d scared off plenty of mandatory therapists during his years in the foster system, and he wasn’t about to start voluntarily seeing one now.

“I have nothing to talk about,” Andrew said.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Betsy replied calmly. “Talking can be overrated. Sometimes I’d much rather punch a pillow or stuff my face with chocolate than talk.” She smiled again. “I should let you rest. It was nice to see you, Andrew.”

Andrew didn’t know what to make of her. Maybe that’s how he ended up sitting across from Betsy a week later, drinking hot chocolate. And then again, the following week. At some point, it became routine.

If Andrew started sleeping better at night and feeling less on edge during the day, he didn’t mention it to anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, Andrew's collection is complete! (sans Neil, whom we'll definitely see if the next chapter). Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Neil coughed and spat dirt out of his mouth as he slammed into the ground for the nth time. The laughing, jeering faces above warned him to stay down. Staying down wasn’t in Neil’s DNA, so he climbed painfully to his feet instead, a hand pressed carefully to his sore ribs. He lifted his head, eyeing the alpha closet to him. He spat again, this time at the alpha’s feet.

The alpha’s eyes widened in anger. “You little…”

Neil struggled as they pinned him against the wall and drove a fist into his gut. Once, twice, three times. His ribs screamed in protest and his lungs ached fiercely as he fought to draw in a proper breath. If not for the hands at Neil’s arms and shoulders, he would’ve slid down the wall in an ungainly heap.

Another fist split Neil’s lip wide open and snapped his head to the side. He choked on a gasp, ears ringing.

“Leave his face alone,” someone said. “He’s gotta look pretty for the auction tonight.”

Another voice laughed. “Like anyone would care. Besides, it’s not like he’s breeding stock. Just a shrimpy little beta who doesn’t know his place.”

“Better than a fat fucking alpha who can’t climb a flight a stairs without having a heart attack,” Neil shot back hotly.

The alpha in question flushed hot red and made an unsubtle attempt to suck in his swelling gut. It would have been almost funny if not for the next blow to Neil’s kidney.

Neil groaned and let himself hang forward, gasping. He could practically feel his mother’s hands slapping his head side to side and telling him to watch his mouth. Keeping his temper in check was imperative for survival. Baiting those more powerful than yourself never turned out well and usually turned out quite bad. Turned out Neil’s mouth had missed that memo.

Abruptly the hands holding him up disappeared and Neil just managed not to fall on his face. He caught himself on his hands, just barely, the shock of impact reverberating up his arms and shoulders. He tensed, bracing for another blow, probably a foot, now that they had him on the ground.

“What’s going on here?”

Neil glanced up, though he carefully kept his head lowered and peered out from underneath the fringe of his dark hair. The man walking toward them exuded arrogant authority in a way only an alpha could. And he was huge. Not just tall, but broad, overworked muscles straining against the material of his shirt. The assholes Neil had tangled with were fairly young, clearly low-ranking in whatever hierarchy they had here. The new guy had at least twenty years on them and Neil’s heart beat an instinctual, painful thump in his chest.

“We have a runner, boss,” one of the assholes replied – the fat asshole. “Tried taking off while we were transferring tonight’s stock into the holding pens. Nearly chased him halfway across the compound before we grabbed him.”

“He’s a fast little fucker,” another piped in.

“Maybe he’s a rabbit,” joked another with a chuckle.

“Is it supposed to impress me that he nearly outran all of you? Nearly escaped?” the alpha’s harsh tone sobered the others immediately. “He never should’ve gotten loose in the first place. He may not be the most valuable product on the market, but I assure you, his worth is more than your monthly salaries combined. Is that understood?”

A chorus of yes sirs sounded while Neil swallowed down his outrage. He wasn’t a fucking product.

Fourteen months. It had only taken fourteen months without his mother there for Neil to get snatched. He’d been stupid, too relaxed. Staying in Millport that long probably had his mother rolling in her sandy grave, but Neil thought lying low, impersonating a normal high school student wouldn’t draw any attention. He’d been wrong.

A week ago, Neil sensed someone following him. He split immediately, grabbed his duffle and hopped the earliest bus out of Millport. He made it all the way to Nashville, nearly thirty-six hours hopping from bus to bus, sleeping in fits and snatches. When they grabbed him off the streets of Nashville, shoving him into a van and smashing a rag over his mouth, he thought it was all over. Thought he’d wake up with his father’s face looming over him and a knife pushed into his skin.

Instead, he woke in a communal cell surrounded by maybe a dozen other shifters, all betas and omegas, all terrified. Not his father, then. But not much better – traffickers. Neil shuffled into a corner and spent the first few hours cataloguing all the potential escape routes and trying not to hyperventilate when he found only one.

For the past week, he’d kept his mouth shut, watching the comings and goings of their captors, memorizing faces and routines. He tried to stamp down his frustration when he realized they never left that cell, not even to shower. A few of the others started whispering about the upcoming auction, and how each of them would get cleaned up and prepped before getting shoved onto a stage and bid on like a piece of meat. Neil’s blood boiled at the very idea.

He was sorely thankful for the (very illegal) drugs that masked his true status as an omega – they always got bid on first, and they always ended up in the worst places. Neil knew only because his mother had drilled into him the horrific details of what he’d face if he ever got caught. Getting bid on as a beta wasn’t exactly ideal either, of course. Neil knew what faced him, knew what the leering alpha stares at his young, slender body meant. He’d fight tooth and nail before letting that happen.

“What are you waiting for?” the alpha snapped. “Get him cleaned up and ready for tonight. If his price is lowered because of unsavory marks, each of you will answer to me personally.”

Neil struggled every step of the way. Small as he was, he’d learned long ago how to fight for his life and he didn’t make it easy as they stripped him and threw him into an ice-cold shower. The force of the spray left him gasping and shivering. Two of them held him down while another scrubbed his skin raw and doused him in smelly soaps and lotions. Neil’s stomach roiled at the too-sweet smells and he wondered if they were stupid enough to think it would mask the stench of fear and desperation.

Once wrestled into a pair of ill-fitting jeans and a skin-tight red shirt, they marched Neil up two flights of stairs and outside for the first time in over a week. Neil’s eyes flew around him, struggling to take in as many details as possible. He’d been unconscious upon entering the compound and had no true sense of where they were. The building they’d just left looked industrial, no doubt built for some unrelated purpose. It opened up into a vast parking lot littered with the occasional van or shuttered trailer. Beyond its grounds he could only see a thick canopy of trees.

They headed for the only other visible building which, Neil realized with some amount of delirious amusement, looked very much like a school. How ironic. He’d stayed in Millport clinging to a semi-normal life of classes, textbooks, and sub-par lunches, and now here he was, gasping his last few breaths of freedom as they shouldered him back into a school.

Neil lost count of how many empty classrooms they passed by. His pulse ratcheted up as they walked into dimly lit gymnasium and he saw the lines of cages up and down the room. Several of the shifters Neil had spent the last week fastidiously ignoring stared back at him with wide, haunted eyes as he passed their individual cages. Like him, they’d all been bathed and dressed in clean, semi-attractive clothing. It did nothing to hide the terror in their eyes.

At the end of the first long row, they shoved Neil into a cage of his own and slammed the door shut. Neil felt the rattle of the bars in his bones. Panic crept slowly up his spine as he spun around in a circle. No way out… no way out.

An hour passed, maybe two. Neil was the last to be shoved into a cage, bringing their numbers up to eleven. He heard the guards mention the “guests” would be arriving soon and he forced himself to count to one hundred in every language he knew to calm his racing heart. Even if someone bought him, Neil reasoned with himself, there would be plenty of other chances to get away. He knew how to run. He was good at running.

A sudden flash of green-gold eyes froze Neil’s breath in his chest. He stilled; sure he’d imagined it. No, there it was again. Underneath the bleachers, almost directly across the room, the distinct, reflective glow of eyes staring back at him. A dull thrum of excitement swept through him. Someone was hiding there. Someone had _shifted_.

Before Neil had ever woken in the communal cell, his captors had forced a syringe in his neck and a drug into his system. He didn’t understand exactly how it worked, only that it somehow blocked the neuro-chemical pathways that allowed him to shift. It would wear off eventually, just not soon enough. The others had been injected with the same drug, of course. Couldn’t have valuable “products” shifting into forms that might actually have a chance at escaping or fighting back.

Neil kept himself completely still and didn’t dare to blink as the green-gold eyes moved a little closer. Still hidden in the shadows, he could just make out the shape of a feline shaped skull. As Neil stared, he saw a flash of sharp, white teeth. 

Everything happened fast. One minute the two men guarding the cages were chatting and laughing. The next, one of the men toppled heavily to the ground with a sharp cry and the other swore and leaned over him. Neil saw the lightning quick speed at which the snake went for his throat, sinking long fangs into his jugular and holding on until his struggles ceased.

Frightened murmurs rose up from the cages as two people materialized in their midst, darting from cage to cage with dangling sets of keys.

“Stay together,” one of them said, a tall man with spiked black hair. His companion, a woman with short white-blonde hair, motioned them ahead after all the cages had been unlatched and nervous shifters clustered forward.

“We’re here to help,” she explained in a calm, soothing voice. “Don’t be frightened, but please stay quiet and stay together. Nicky is going to guide you out.” She nodded to the fire-exit where a smiling, grey wolf stood near the door.

Neil’s heart raced a mile a minute as the group followed instructions and filed quickly out the fire-exit. He stayed purposefully to the rear, glancing continuously back at the gymnasium entrance, expecting to see guards pouring through the doors.

As he neared the exit, Neil finally saw the owner of the green-gold eyes. He resembled a leopard, with a tawny orange coat and intricate black markings, but at maybe half that size. He sprawled lazily on a step, watching the commotion. Neil caught his eye again and he bared his teeth in a feline grin. Neil lost sight of him as he finally stepped outside.

Night had fallen, though the remaining wisps of dark purple and blue clouds remained visible above the tree-line. Neil wondered how eleven frightened shifters plus however many more in the rescue party could possibly make it across the parking lot unaccosted, let alone actually escape the compound on foot. Maybe if they could shift, but they didn’t stand a chance otherwise.

It didn’t take long for Neil to realize the wolf, Nicky, was leading them into the trees. That was insane. Running through the forest at night might be easy for an apex predator - it would be impossible for a group of half-starved humans. Neil’s eyes darted around. He had to decide quickly. The traffickers were likely hot on their heels. Neil couldn’t go back. He wouldn’t. His mother had kept him safe for a long time and he wouldn’t fail her again now.

Neil ran.

No one saw him slip away into the darkness. Neil’s breath rushed through his ears as he moved quickly through the dense forest. He could make out just enough to not trip over every obstacle, but it was too slow-going. Every snapped twig and hoot of an owl made his pulse spike as he moved deeper and deeper into the trees. He quickly lost any sense of time and direction and had no clue how far he’d gone. He just had to keep going, stay hidden. Eventually his ability to shift would return and running would be so much easier.

Hours passed. The night deepened and only the barest hint of moonlight leaked through the canopy, forcing Neil to slow his pace to a crawl. He kept his arms splayed outward and felt each step before fully taking it. His ribs ached fiercely and as the initial rush of adrenalin faded, exhaustion quickly set in. Eventually he had to stop.

Neil shivered as he settled between the exposed roots of several ancient trees. The roots had formed into an overhang of sorts and would provide at least some coverage if anyone tried to sneak up on him. Hugging his knees to his chest, Neil leaned his head forward and was asleep in seconds.

*******

A twig snapped. Neil jerked awake and clapped his hand over his mouth to mask his startled breath. It was still dark out and he felt momentarily disoriented as he tried to gather his bearings. When a twig snapped again, he leapt to his feet and ran.

It was the right choice, because somewhere behind him there was a growl and the sounds of fleet-footed pursuit.

Neil ran wildly, too focused on increasing the distance between himself and his pursuer to notice the sudden, steep decline. He stumbled to his knees, grabbed blindly for a handhold, and then he was free-falling. Air rushed out of his lungs as he slammed into the ground a moment later, rolling with the momentum of the fall, and then plunging into icy water.

Neil flailed, kicking hard as the current swept him downstream. He snatched a mouthful of air, lungs burning as the rolling water pushed him under again. His whole body trembled with the effort to keep his head above water and it felt like jagged knives digging into his ribcage. Something sharp slammed into his leg, a rock maybe, and Neil choked as he dunked under again. He couldn’t hear above the roar in his head, but he imagined the rushing sound of a waterfall and wondered if the fall would kill him quickly at least.

A heavy weight slammed into his back. Neil yelled in surprise and swallowed another mouthful of freezing water. Surprise quickly turned to shock as a strong arm clamped around his waist and suddenly their momentum stopped with a jarring yank.

“Grab the fucking branch!”

Neil’s survival instincts were so deeply ingrained in his psyche that he obeyed without hesitation. He reached above him, fingers scrabbling for purchase on rough bark. He found a knot and pulled with every ounce of strength he had left. Somehow, by some miracle, Neil managed to lever himself onto the fallen tree trunk. He was only vaguely aware of the other person behind him as he inched slowly along on his belly. As soon as his shoes dragged across solid ground, Neil let go and fell to the rocky shore, gasping. He saw a flash of blond hair and angry hazel eyes and then he passed out.

******

Neil woke more slowly the next time. He bit back a groan as every cut and bruise made itself immediately known. His lungs and ribs were on fire and his throat felt swollen. Very slowly, he levered himself into a sitting position and looked around. He froze at the sight of a very soggy, very irritated looking large cat sitting several feet away from him.

Ocelot, his mind finally supplied. That was the creature he’d glimpsed back at the gym, one of the rescuers. Neil frowned. How the hell had they found him? And why?

“Why are you following me?” Neil asked, swallowing against the soreness in his voice.

If a cat could roll its eyes, Neil suspected this one had just done so. The ocelot growled softly and stood up. It backed up a few feet, staring at Neil, and then growled again when he didn’t move.

“This would be a lot easier if you’d just shift,” Neil said, slowly getting to his feet. The events of last night rushed back to him and he stared hard at the strange shifter. “You jumped in the river. Why the hell would you do that?”

The ocelot stared him down for a minute, then turned away and starting padding into the forest.

Neil huffed in frustration and followed after him.

Early morning turned into late morning as they walked. Neil could only guess the ocelot had some innate sense of direction because Neil certainly didn’t at this point. Every ache and pain worsened the longer they went. Neil was no stranger to pain though, and no stranger to being on the run in considerably worse condition, so he said nothing. He did notice the ocelot limping slightly as well, favoring his front left leg. A small part of Neil felt an inkling of guilt that the shifter had gotten hurt pulling him out of the water. A much larger part asked what the hell Neil was doing following a stranger he’d only run away from hours ago.

Neil rationalized his actions as they walked. He was hurt, exhausted, and hunted. Whoever the groups of rescuers from last night were, they had to be better than the traffickers, better than getting sold into an unknown, unspeakable fate. He’d take whatever respite he required, then be on his way. That was the smart move. _I’m alone now,_ Neil reminded himself, _I have to accept help where I can get it._ He had to survive.

Neil heard the truck before he saw it. He dropped to the ground, nearly punching the air from his lungs in an effort to hide himself in the long grass. The ocelot paused, glancing over his shoulder with a bored expression, then he sat down and waited for the truck to reach them. Pulse thundering, Neil climbed to his feet and watched the truck approach down a windy, dirt road.

The truck screeched to a halt and two people piled out. One man was close to Neil’s age, average height, dark-haired and dark-eyed, grinning like a fool at the sight of them. The other Neil marked as an alpha and his fists clenched convulsively at his sides. He was older with flame tattoos wrapped around his forearms and a scowl etched deep into his face.

“You jumped in the goddamned river?” the older one yelled, stomping toward the ocelot. Neil took a step back out of reflex. “Are you actually insane? No, wait, don’t answer that. Jesus, Andrew, come on.”

The ocelot twitched his ears back.

The alpha huffed out a sigh. “Get. Nicky’s got clothes for you in the truck. We are going to talk about this later.”

The ocelot, who was apparently named Andrew, glanced at Neil once more before sauntering to the truck and leaping gracefully into the open back seat.

Face to face with an angry alpha close to his father’s age, Neil forced himself to stand his ground and keep a neutral expression.

“You alright?” the alpha asked, crossing his arms and eyeing Neil. “I’m sure your midnight jaunt through the forest wasn’t the sight-seeing you were expecting to be doing in the Blue Ridge mountains.”

Neil blinked. Blue Ridge. That could mean a lot of places and he had no sense of how far they’d driven after snatching him in Nashville.

Perhaps sensing his confusion, the alpha said. “We’re not far outside Knoxville, Tennessee, in case you were wondering. Where did they pick you up anyway?”

Neil shook his head. “Who are you?”

“David Wymack. I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but I would’ve been more pleased if Andrew hadn’t spent half the night following you through the woods.” He eyed Neil for a moment. “I’m Pack Alpha of the Palmetto Foxes. This,” he jerked his head toward the truck, “is a bit of a side-business of ours. If you’d like to actually hang around this time, we can help set you up with temporary shelter, food, and medical care. We’ll decide later where you go from there. Everything is completely up to you from here on out. Got it?”

Neil just stared. He expected alarm bells to go off in his brain any second now, but mostly he just felt confused.

“Why?” he asked, at a loss. “Why would you help me?”

David studied him with a shrewd, knowing expression. “Everyone needs help once in a while. Seems like you could use some right about now.”

Neil shook his head again. “I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

David snorted. “Yes, clearly.” After a pause, “you got a name?”

It was crazy. He was insane for even considering it. All the rationalizing he’d done on the walk here didn’t hold up in the face of an unknown Pack Alpha who could no doubt do whatever the hell he wanted to Neil. Neil swallowed, ready to make an excuse, ready to bolt, and then Andrew stepped out of the truck.

His blond hair stuck up in several directions and the vaguely irritated expression on his face was focused solely on Neil. Andrew was smaller than him. And he was an omega.

Neil froze in shock. What kind of pack let their omegas go on dangerous rescue missions? Let them run through a forest, at night, alone, after a strange shifter?

“Is he coming or not?” Andrew said, staring at Neil but directing his question to David. “I’m not going after him again. Next time he’ll probably throw himself off the side of a cliff. Hope his other form has wings.”

“Shut up, Andrew,” David said, but it lacked any heat.

Neil took a deep, painful breath. Another. Then, “it’s Neil.”

David nodded. “Alright then, Neil. Let’s load up. We’ve got a lot of road to cover.”


	4. Chapter 4

Andrew pretended to doze on the way back to camp. He sat shotgun, Nicky behind him, and Neil shoved as far into the opposite back seat as he could go. As if he could make himself simply disappear if he hunched over just a little further or scooted a little closer to the door.

Neil barely moved during the hour-long drive. Every time he did, Andrew cracked open an eye and fingered the edge of his armband. He didn’t care if Neil appeared scrawny and frightened to the others. Andrew knew a liar when he saw one, and Neil was most definitely a liar.

“Eleven shifters – eleven! Can you believe it? Those assholes are sure getting cocky. I mean, come one! How did they expect no one to notice? Everyone’s got someone who misses them. One of the girls I talked to last night said she’d been there for three weeks. Can you believe that shit?” Nicky chattered a mile a minute while they drove. He was either oblivious to the tension or had taken it upon himself to fill the silence with his own voice. With Andrew and Aaron around, he did that a lot. The addition of Kevin six months ago had altered that dynamic a bit, although Kevin’s single-minded focus (obsession) with dismantling shifter bidding didn’t exactly make for the most light-hearted conversations.

“So Neil, who’s your person, huh? Who are you needing to get back to?” Nicky asked. To his credit, he managed to tamper his ever-present enthusiasm as he asked. He knew by experience not everyone had a good story.

Andrew watched Neil go still out of the corner of his eye. He pulled himself together a split second later, giving an aborted shake of his head and a half-shrug.

“No one. My family is dead.”

That shut Nicky up. He opened his mouth, closed it. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Are you part of a pack?” Andrew asked casually. He didn’t miss the warning glance David shot him. They had people for this part, the question and answer, interview, whatever. Those people were generally empathetic and gentle, and Andrew was certainly not one of them.

Neil shook his head again. “My parents raised me as an independent. We traveled a lot. Just never settled down, really.”

Uh huh.

“Traveling for business?” Andrew pressed.

“Andrew,” David warned in a low voice. Neil’s entire body tensed and relaxed in the space of a second, gaze darting to the driver’s seat before settling in his lap. Interesting.

“Uh yeah, business,” Neil mumbled. “International finance, stuff like that.”

“Curious they never settled down then. You’d think a pack conglomerate would be important for that kind of work. Tell me, Neil, did no one ever offer your family membership? Or did they just never accept. What a unique story.”

Andrew felt a small stab of satisfaction as Neil finally shot him an irritated look. Before he could answer, the radio blared to life and Journey started yelling in Andrew’s ear. Andrew straightened out in his seat, decided not to reach for the volume dial at David’s threatening finger, and settled on examining Neil’s answers for the remainder of the drive.

*******

Later that afternoon, Andrew endured a brief exam by Abby who declared he had a sprained shoulder. She recommended using a sling for a few days, which Andrew shrugged out of immediately upon leaving her side.

As far as the rest of the world was concerned, the Lowridge Youth Camp, nestled in the heart of Chattahoochee National Forest, closed its doors over a decade ago following a horrific fire. Three campers died and over a dozen more injured. The real icing on the cake was discovering the camp director’s culpability – he’d been busy fucking an underage camper in her dorm and had turned off all alarm systems so he could sneak around unnoticed. Later, he would apologize and say he never meant to disable the fire alarm, just the doors and motion sensors. The camp never reopened.

With such a remote location, no one had any interest in buying the land. Over the years it rotted away and faded from memory. And then the Foxes came along. David heard about the abandoned campground while interviewing a new member of the pack. A few months later he made a solo trek to scout it out. A few months after that, he started using it as a sort of halfway house for rescued shifters. Even within the pack, Lowridge remained a carefully kept secret. No paper trail could link it with Palmetto, and everyone used alternate routes to reach it as to avoid attracting local attention.

The dining hall had been transformed into temporary lodgings for the rescued shifters. Low-slung cots fitted with clean sheets and blankets, a pillow, and a tote filled with basic hygiene items, each separated by basic privacy screens, took up three of the four walls. The middle of the large, rectangular room was filled with long, communal tables and benches – for eating, socializing, etc. Or, in Neil’s case, for avoiding all human contact.

During dinner, Andrew lounged at a table near the door with Nicky and watched Neil. He noticed the way Neil immediately scanned the room for all potential exits when he walked inside, and he noticed how, upon making accidental eye contact with Andrew, Neil chose the further possible seat from him. Andrew might be amused if he wasn’t so suspicious.

“Uh, you wanna tell me why you’re so into the new guy?” Nicky asked.

Andrew slid his gaze to his cousin and stared him down while sawing into his chicken with a bit too much force.

Nicky raised his hands placatingly. “Okay, okay, not mentioning it. But,” he waggled an eyebrow, “if you ask me, I think he swings my way. I mean, look at those big, doe eyes. And he didn’t even _look_ at Allison’s boobs when she trounced out to the lake in her bikini earlier. Yep, no way. He plays in my ballpark.”

“And your ballpark includes cheating on Erik?” Andrew said mildly, taking another bite.

“Hey!” Nicky at least had the grace to look offended. “I am _not_ cheating. You know Erik and I have an understanding. Needs don’t take care of themselves, my dear little cousin. Oh, not that you’d know about that. Snow queen.”

Andrew ignored him. Across the room, Matt and Dan sat down with Neil, smiling and clearly trying to strike up a conversation. Neil seemed genuinely confused by the attention and hunched over his meal tray ever so slightly. Like a stray dog protecting its food.

“I’m going,” Andrew stated. He pushed his tray back and straddled the bench long enough to point a finger between the tray and Nicky. Nicky rolled his eyes.

“Yes, your majesty. Of course I’ll take care of that for you. Wait – where are you going?”

While the rescued shifters and several Foxes took up residence in the dining hall, David claimed a nearby cabin for himself (and probably Abby, but Andrew didn’t care enough to figure it out). Andrew gave a cursory knock before shoving open the door and strolling inside. Seated at the kitchen table with an open bottle of whiskey, David gave him an annoyed glance, then grumbled something to himself while pouring a glass and shoving it toward Andrew.

“I’m not sure the word ‘privacy’ means the same thing to you as it does to other people,” David said.

Andrew took a careful sip, grimaced, then took another.

“You’re the one who invites home strays,” Andrew commented. “Not me.”

“Huh, and yet I seem to recall you being one of those strays.”

“Not the point.”

David shook his head. They drank in silence for a few minutes before Andrew decided to speak again.

“He’s lying.”

“Who isn’t?” David griped. “But who exactly is ‘he’? Oh wait, could it be the guy you chased across a forest, jumped in a river after, then led him back to our rendezvous point? And don’t forget the impromptu interrogation in my truck. Cut the bullshit, Andrew. What was that all about?”

“I’m not the one in question here, Alpha.”

David rolled his eyes at the use of his title – none of the Foxes used it, least of all those in his inner circle.

Andrew continued. “You and I both have people to protect, and I’m not about to let a liar into our pack. He could be a plant. He could be one of Riko’s.”

“What makes you think he’s even interested in being in the pack?” David challenged. “Or that I’d even consider it?”

Andrew stared at him flatly.

“Okay, fine,” David huffed after a moment. “Maybe I’m considering it. The kid has nowhere and no one. Clearly, he can’t take care of himself, seeing as he almost ended up some rich asshole’s plaything. He looks like he hasn’t eaten a decent meal in ten years, and he flinches every time I walk by. What exactly am I supposed to do here, Andrew? Turn him away because you have a hunch? News flash, everyone lies. Doesn’t mean they’re all dangerous.”

“Oh that’s where you’re wrong,” Andrew said. “People are all dangerous. You just have to figure out their particular brand of it.”

“Look,” David said after a few minutes. “I appreciate you’re concerned. You’ve got good instincts, but so do I. I’m not asking you to trust Neil – hell, I sure as hell don’t. That doesn’t mean we don’t give him a chance. Whether he stays or not isn’t something we’re deciding tonight.”

David refilled their glasses and they drank together in companionable silence. After a while, David stood up and left the room. He returned a few minutes later and tossed a pillow on the table.

“Blanket’s already on the couch, if you’re crashing here.” He pointed a finger at Andrew. “And don’t drink all my whisky.”

*******

Neil dreamed of burning cars and blood-soaked vinyl. He dreamed of hot irons smacked against his chest and weeping, searing lines in his gut. Somewhere along the way, his dream shifted, slowed down. He was back in a cage, only it was filling with water. Neil splashed frantically as the water rose to his hips, his shoulders. He pushed against the bars of the cage, hammered his fists against the steel until his knuckles split and the bones in his hands cracked. It was no use. The water continued to rise. Furious and panicked, Neil took one final gasp of air before the water pushed over his head. He was trapped. He was drowning.

Suddenly he became aware of people outside the cage. Men in expensive tailored suits, sipping fancy cocktails and passing crisp, green money between themselves as they watched Neil suffocate. Neil wanted to yell at them, wanted to shove them in a cage and watch them struggle to breathe. Wanted to…

The water evaporated and Neil collapsed on the sand. Back to the beach. The acrid scent of smoke and burning flesh still clung to his clothes, his hair. He cradled what remained of his mother close to his chest. Just ashes and bones now, but he could still imagine the feel of her blood, hot and slick as he tried to shove it back inside her body.

“I’m sorry,” Neil gasped, as the bones started to bleed. “I’m so sorry…”

Pain swiped across his back. Neil stumbled forward, whirled around expecting to dodge another slash of his father’s blade. No one was there.

He cried out as he took another blow to his calf. He jumped back and the bones disintegrated in his arms. He could hear his mother screaming.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

Neil spun around in time to see Andrew’s blank face.

“Let’s see if he has wings,” Andrew said. He pushed and Neil fell into nothingness.

Neil wasn’t scared.

*******

Andrew dreamed of sharp things. The cold press of steel as it danced up and down his spine. The hot slice of a razor as it kissed delicate red trails through his skin. The sharp relief of knowing he had a home to go to at night. The sharp stab of dread and dull spread of resignation as his bedroom door creaked open in the dark.

He dreamed of good things too. Locking the door to his apartment for the first time. Countless nights walking home with Renee. Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky crowded into a beer-soaked booth while lights danced around them and the music beat a pulse inside his head.

Andrew remembered all his dreams. He doubted others remembered like he did, though he’d never bothered to ask. He rarely dreamed of fantasies. Andrew’s mind was so stuffed with reality that he didn’t have room for anything else.

Something changed that night.

Neil. Goddamn Neil Josten walked right into Andrew’s mind and took up residence. He dreamed about chasing Neil through the forest, questioning himself all the while. Instead of running, falling headfirst into a rushing river that Andrew _had_ to follow him into, Neil stopped. He turned around, caught Andrew’s eyes in the dim light.

“You’re following me,” he said, much as he’d said in reality.

“Because you’re not real,” Andrew replied. Human. He didn’t realize he’d shifted.

Neil scoffed. “You’re a bad liar.”

The night darkened around them. Andrew abruptly lost sight of Neil and wondered at the plummet his stomach made. Why did he care? He didn’t care. No way did he care.

“Catch me if you can,” Neil whispered. His breath ghosted across Andrew’s neck. Andrew spun around and was greeted only by darkness.

*******

It took a little over three days to place the rescued shifters into permanent, or at least semi-permanent homes. Neil sat back and watched the comings and goings, quietly cataloging routine movements in case escape turned out to be the best solution after all.

He couldn’t put his fingers on what kept him there. He’d traveled in much worse condition. Nashville would be a bit of a trek with no money, but all he needed to do was retrieve his carefully stowed duffel bag from the Greyhound locker and get far, far away. Maybe he’d try somewhere in Quebec. His French would be passable, if not quite right for that region. Either way, Canada had much stricter laws related to shifter bidding – trafficking. Neil didn’t want to repeat that near-miss anytime soon.

It took him until the end of the second day to realize he was actually considering the Pack Alpha’s offer. Membership with the Palmetto Foxes. Neil knew of them – of course he did, they were a bit notorious – and he knew of David’s somewhat eccentric reputation for taking in shifters of the most troubled variety. It sounded nice in theory. In reality, Neil couldn’t see how a bunch of misfits with jagged edges could possibly fit together as a whole.

“If you’re going to run, the east-bound road gets you to a highway in about forty-five minutes.”

Neil sighed and shot an irritated glance at Andrew, who’d settled against the porch several feet away.

“You really don’t have to keep following me, you know,” Neil said.

“Oh, I really do,” Andrew replied in a mild tone as he cupped a cigarette to his face to light it. He blew a mouthful of smoke Neil’s direction. “You’re an interesting puzzle.”

Neil scowled. “I’m not a game.”

“And yet, I’ll still solve you.”

“So you think following me around, scaring off anyone who tries to talk to me, and whispering in your alpha’s ear is going to help?” Neil asked. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Not my alpha,” Andrew said.

Neil blinked. “What?”

“David is not my alpha. I don’t have an alpha.” Andrew’s expression looked calm, bored even. Still, something in his voice held a note of warning.

“Fine,” Neil said. “You don’t have an alpha. Congrats. But why – ” He paused uncertainly. “I’ve never heard of a pack taking in omegas unless it’s for a mate or some sort of familial connection.” He could tell he had Andrew’s attention even though he remained facing away. “Is it really… Are you really as free as you claim to be?”

Andrew didn’t reply immediately. He smoked down half his cigarette before sliding his gaze to Neil. “If you actually thought otherwise, would you still be here?”

Neil opened his mouth, then closed it quickly as his heart gave a hard thump.

“Besides,” Andrew said, looking away. “It shouldn’t matter to you, seeing as you’re a beta.”

“My mother was an omega,” Neil lied. “She kept me away from all that, but I know what it’s like in packs. She told me what it’s like. I have no interest in continuing that cycle. No one should be mistreated because of something they can’t control.”

Andrew regarded him silently before walking away without a word.

*******

“Oh man,” Matt said, plunking down on the bench opposite Neil. The dining hall was empty except for Foxes and a quiet beta who’d also been offered a home in Palmetto. “What did you do to draw the attention of the monster?”

Neil frowned. “Huh?”

Matt smiled. “Sorry, guess you don’t know all the gossip just yet. I mean Andrew. Is he giving you a hard time? I can talk to David about making him back off, if you want me to.”

“Oh,” Neil replied. “No, it’s fine. He’s just…”

Matt chuckled. “Yeah, I get it. Words don’t do justice.”

“You don’t like him, I take it?”

Matt’s smile turned a bit self-conscious. “Ah, no, it’s… Okay, I wouldn’t say I like him exactly. Or that I don’t. It’s mostly just that he… well, he scares the shit out of everyone.”

Neil couldn’t help the incredulous look on his face, judging by Matt’s laugh. Out of everyone he’d met, Matt was by far the most physically formidable. And apparently his shifter form was a bison, which is why he stayed in human form unless he needed to literally ram down a door.

“Look, I mean – oh hey, Dan!”

Neil swallowed down his vague annoyance as Dan slid into the seat beside Matt, bumping gently into his shoulder. The two of them had taken to seeking him out at any and all mealtimes. Apparently, Neil eating alone depressed them.

“Hey, Neil,” she greeted. “What are we talking about?”

“The mon – I mean, Andrew,” Matt said. “Sorry,” he continued, when Dan gave him a look.

“Maybe let’s not color Neil’s perception of the pack before he’s even arrived,” Dan said. She grimaced slightly. “Though really, if he’s going to be a problem, let one of us know.”

“He did save my life, you know,” Neil retorted, mildly satisfied to see both their faces blank in surprise. He didn’t know why he was defending Andrew. As an ocelot and as a human, Andrew had been nothing but rude and obnoxious to Neil since they met. There was something about him though. Something Neil couldn’t put a finger on, and he found that as intriguing as he did infuriating.

“Of course he did,” Dan amended. “I’m sorry. You know what it’s like being around the same people day in and day out. Drives you a little stir crazy.”

No, Neil really didn’t know. Instead, he said, “sure,” and they went back to eating.

*******

Neil found himself leaning against another wall that night, breathing in the scent of Andrew’s smoke and wondering what it would be like to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing!


	5. Chapter 5

“So I hear we’re going on a road trip!” Nicky greeted cheerfully the next morning. He straddled the bench facing Neil. “I’ll go ahead and apologize now for Andrew’s driving. He only lets me drive if he’s wasted.”

Neil paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“It’s not that he’s a _bad_ driver,” Nicky continued obliviously. “He just has zero regard for anyone on the road besides himself. Okay, maybe that does make him a bad driver. Ah, you won’t tell him I said that, will you?”

“Nicky,” Neil said, “what the hell are you talking about? What road trip?”

“Oh.” Nicky laughed lightly. “Uh, whoops. Figured you knew. We’re going to Nashville. You know, to get your stuff.”

Neil’s stomach clenched. “And by we, you mean you, me, and Andrew?”

Nicky nodded. “Yep! He volunteered.”

“Of course he did,” Neil mumbled, stabbing a potato with slightly too much force.

“And then I volunteered myself, because who am I to miss out on a trip to Nashville?” Nicky lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Also, it’s kind of my job to make sure Andrew doesn’t break too many laws while we’re out and about.”

Neil snorted. “Yeah? How’s that going for you?”

Nicky just grinned. “Alas, it is my lot in life to keep an eye on my crazy little cousins. Not that I mind. Oh, but you probably don’t know? Andrew has a twin – Aaron. You’ll meet him when we get back to Palmetto. Him and Kevin. Kevin’s more the brains than the brawn with these operations – Kevin’s not my cousin – Not that Andrew would let him come along anyway. He’s a tad bit possessive, if you ask me.”

Trying to keep up with Nicky’s train of thought was like trying to watch a single speck of dust whirling through a tornado. Neil quickly gave up and resumed eating his breakfast. Only it turned out his appetite had vanished.

After getting dressed and jogging twice around the perimeter of the grounds, Neil sat down on the steps outside the dining hall and watched the others as they quickly and efficiently dismantled camp. By the time they were done, not a trace of its current occupants would be discoverable.

“Hey, Neil, you wanna give me a hand with this?” Matt asked. At Neil’s nod, he tossed him a heavy tote bag, hefting three flattened cots himself. They loaded items in Matt’s truck – which Neil was sure had no reason to be that far off the ground – taking a few more trips before Matt declared his truck bed full.

“Thanks, man,” Matt said, nodding at Neil. “Hey, do you want to ride back with Dan, Allison, and I? We’ve still got an empty seat.” As if summoned, the two of them appeared, followed closely by Renee. Neil forced himself not to fidget. Something about the mild-mannered, cross-bearing shifter set his teeth on edge.

“Er, thanks anyway,” Neil said uncomfortably. “But I’m actually taking a detour to Nashville to get my things first.”

“Oh,” Dan looked surprised. “I didn’t realize. Who’s taking you? David?”

Neil sighed inwardly, ready for the protest. “Andrew and Nicky.”

The chorus of surprised, incredulous responses came from everyone except Renee. She just cocked her head and smiled slightly.

“That’s a really bad idea,” Dan said.

“You don’t want to know what the monsters get up to on their own,” Allison chimed in with a delicate sniff.

“Let me talk to David,” Matt said, taking a step like he would do it right away. “We can drive you instead.”

“It’s a little unkind to just assume Andrew’s intentions are bad, don’t you think?” Renee’s soft-spoken reproach silenced the others immediately. Neil was impressed despite himself.

She continued. “Whether or not you approve of his methods, Andrew always has our pack’s best interests in mind. I’d think you, Matt, of all people would know that.”

Dan scowled. “Yeah, but - ” She snapped her mouth shut when Matt gently squeezed her hand.

“I hope you have a good trip, Neil,” Renee said, smiling at him again. Neil didn’t know what to say so he just stared. “I’ll look forward to seeing you back in Palmetto.”

At that not so subtle dismissal, the small group dispersed. Neil just shook his head when he saw Dan whispering furiously to Matt. He walked away before the argument reached his ears.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Matt’s group and Andrew’s didn’t get along. Neil heard bits and pieces about it, but he figured some deeper history must exist to keep them at each other’s throats like that. Although, to be fair, Andrew had barely spoken two words to Matt’s group since Neil arrived. Andrew seemed to reserve his attention solely for Nicky, David, and oddly enough, Renee. Oh, and now Neil.

Neil was still figuring out how he felt about that.

*******

They hit the road at half past three. Aside from David, they were the last to leave, and helped do a final sweep of the grounds before going. After a few choice words from David – mostly to the effect of Andrew and Nicky better bring Neil back in one piece, or else – they piled into Andrew’s car and peeled out.

Even with Andrew’s excessive use of the gas pedal, it took about four hours to reach Nashville. To Neil’s relief, they spent most of the drive without talking. It turned out Andrew’s solution to Nicky’s non-stop chatter included blaring music and acting like he didn’t exist. After a while, Nicky grew tired of being ignored and fell asleep.

Neil’s anxiety ratcheted up a few notches as they exited the freeway and sped through increasingly familiar streets of downtown Nashville. He’d spent less than twenty-four hours the last time he was here, wandering about the crowded touristy parts of the city and biding time while he figured out his next move. Neil still didn’t understand how they’d tracked him across multiple states. The not knowing ate a hole in his gut. If not for his duffel, Neil would never have set foot in this city again.

“Feeling rabbit-like?” Andrew asked, slanting Neil a bored look.

“Fuck off,” Neil retorted mildly.

“Oh,” Andrew drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “He bites.”

They pulled into a cheap motel several minutes later. The ‘Sunrise Inn’ had seen better days – the dark pink paint was peeling visibly and the neon palm trees framing the sign lit up only sporadically. Still, Neil had stayed in worse places.

The room was surprisingly clean and well-furnished. Neil glanced around, confused by the distinct lack of disrepair.

“Weird, right?” Nicky said with a grin, dropping a suitcase on one of the beds. “Bet you were expecting roaches and lots of stains, huh?”

“I wouldn’t bring a blacklight in here, then,” Andrew commented. He walked past both of them and sunk down on the couch. He kicked his shoes off and leaned back, draping a forearm across his eyes.

Nicky made a face. “Ew, gross.”

“Shouldn’t we go get my stuff?” Neil prompted when Nicky threw himself on the bed with a dramatic sigh.

“Oh, we’ll grab it in the morning on our way out,” Nicky said. “You don’t mind, right? We’ve got plans tonight. Daddy needs his beauty-rest before seeing what Nashville has on the menu.”

Neil glanced between the two of them, annoyed.

“Seriously? So much for altruism. If I’d known you just wanted to come party, I would’ve figured out my own way.” Neil scowled. “You know what? Have fun. I’m going to get my bag.”

“Ah, come on,” Nicky said. He sat up, an imploring look on his face. “Of course we came to help you. Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun too. You know what that is, right? Fun?” At Neil’s blank stare, he groaned. “I can’t even with you.”

Neil settled his hand on the door, ready to yank it open, when Andrew spoke.

“You really think that’s a good idea? Wondering the streets of Nashville alone?”

Neil’s stomach lurched and he squeezed the doorknob until his knuckles turned white.

“You are such an asshole,” he ground out, turning around.

Andrew still had his face covered. “So I’ve been told.”

Neil huffed as he sat on the edge of the other bed and crossed his arms. “Fine. Whatever. But there is _no way_ I’m going with you tonight.”

*******

Years ago, in Germany, Neil and his mother used a nightclub to lose their pursuers. Neil still remembered the heart-pounding adrenaline as his mother dragged him through the mass of writhing, sweaty bodies, lights pulsing on, off, on, off, in time with the bass he could feel vibrating through his teeth.

Neil immediately felt on edge as they stepped into Crush Lounge that evening. He’d finally given in after literally _hours_ of Nicky whining. Andrew hadn’t said a word, which, in the end, prompted Neil to say yes. He was curious. Andrew hardly seemed the partying type. Neil just wanted to know what made him tick. That was all.

Nicky darted to an open booth against an exposed brick wall and shot Andrew and Neil an excited thumbs up as he spread out and saved the space. Neil followed Andrew to the bar. For a Thursday, the place was pretty well packed, and Neil found himself pushed up against Andrew as people shoved and shouldered their way around. Andrew didn’t budge, simply flicking him a bored look when Neil apologized for bumping against him.

After nearly twenty minutes, they managed to reach the counter and snag a bartender’s attention. Andrew immediately rattled off an order for half a dozen beers, bottled or cans, tabs on. The bleach-blond bartender gave Andrew a weird look but didn’t say anything as she stacked beers onto a tray.

“And for you?” the bartender asked Neil.

Neil shook his head. “I don’t drink. Water is fine.”

“He’ll have a coke,” Andrew ordered. “Canned.”

The bartender did role her eyes that time. She placed a can of coke and an empty glass on the tray. After paying, Andrew discarded the empty glass, grabbed the tray, and shouldered his way back through the crowd.

Neil took the seat across from Nicky while Andrew shoved in next to his cousin. Nicky made a face when he saw the drinks.

“Beer? Since when do we drink beer? Andrew, it’s so _bitter_.”

Andrew tabbed open a beer and took a long sip, staring out at the crowd.

Nicky made a dramatic noise before following suit. He wrinkled his nose with every sip.

They drank quietly for a while, seemingly content to watch the club-goers as the evening lengthened and the party picked up. Neil spotted a ton of preppy, over-made girls and an even larger number of guys in button-down polos and khakis. From this far away, and with this many people, he couldn’t get a read on anyone. He’d bet his left foot most of the swaggering, cologne-sporting frat boys were alphas.

“Well, it’s no Eden’s Twilight,” Nicky mused. He’d downed three beers already and his cheeks looked a bit flushed. “But Kevin and Aaron are still gonna shit a brick that they missed out. I mean, just look at all the beautiful, single people.”

“What if they’re not single?” Neil asked.

“That’s okay,” Nicky shrugged, grinning. “Neither am I.”

Neil didn’t have time to muse on that as Nicky barreled ahead, suddenly directing all his attention to Neil.

“So, Neil,” he said. “We’ve all been wondering, which way do you swing?”

“And by we, do you mean, you?” Neil asked.

Nicky laughed. “Okay, you got me. But really, you have to tell me. I know everyone just assumes betas go both ways, but I assure you, that’s not the case for me.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Neil felt a blush creeping up his neck. “I don’t – it’s none of your business, okay?”

“Aw, come on,” Nicky whined. “Just tell me who tickles your diddle? Boys, girls, alphas, omegas…”

“None of them,” Neil snapped. “I don’t swing. So just – don’t.”

“What? No way! People don’t just not swing. I mean, who have you – ” Nicky’s eyes widened and he slammed a hand down on the table. “Oh my god. _Oh my god_. You’ve never been with someone, have you? Are you seriously a virgin? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more attractive.”

“Nicky, shut up.”

Andrew’s attention had remained on the crowd throughout the conversation. Neil didn’t realize he’d even been listening.

Nicky kept going, grinning widely as he swept his eyes up and down Neil’s body. Neil shifted uncomfortably. “You know, if you’re thinking about experimenting, I know this great guy.”

“I said don’t.” Andrew sat back, by all accounts casual, and turned a deadly blank stare on Nicky. “You don’t touch him. Understood?”

Nicky’s mouth fell open. He glanced between Andrew and Neil with a hurt expression. “Not fair. First Kevin and now Neil?” He sighed and stood up. “Fine. I’m going dancing. Maybe find some people who know what it’s like to actually have a sex-drive.”

Neil watched him go, more than a little taken aback by Andrew’s sudden defense. He looked at Andrew, whose gaze had settled back on the crowd.

“Why did you do that?” Neil asked. “I can handle myself.”

“I doubt that,” Andrew replied.

Neil shook his head in frustration. “One second you’re telling me to run away, then the next you’re threatening your own cousin because he flirted with me? You don’t make any sense. Why did you bring me here tonight?”

“Not quite the right question.” Andrew turned his assessing gaze on Neil. In the flickering lights his eyes seemed to glow. “Better question is, why did I bring you to Nashville? It’s not exactly the most interesting drive, and you’re definitely not the most interesting company.”

“Oh really,” Neil challenged. “I seem to have caught your interest just fine.”

“Whether or not you can keep it? To be determined.”

Neil watched him for a moment, grinding his jaw. “You brought me to Nashville to see if you’ll let me go back to Palmetto with you. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Andrew cocked his head. “Ding, ding, one point to Neil.”

“Does your alpha know about this?”

“How about this,” Andrew said, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. “Let’s play a game. A truth for a truth. You ask, I answer. Vice versa. Shall we begin?”

Neil tapped a rhythm on his knee beneath the table. Why was he not walking away? Truth was dangerous. Truth ended with blood and knives and horror. He had to walk away.

Instead, he said, “Fine. I’m going first.”

Andrew gestured for him to continue.

“Why did you order beer when it’s clearly not what either of you like?”

“That should be obvious to a liar like you,” Andrew said. “Strange city, strange bar, strange people. You never know what ingredients the locals use. I’m not stupid enough to take that chance just because it doesn’t taste as good.”

“You think someone might drug you,” Neil said, surprised. Then he thought back to the bar and how Andrew swapped Neil’s water for a coke. “Or one of us.”

“My turn. How did your parents die?”

Neil’s thoughts ground to a halt and his pulse increased.

“My father died in prison,” Neil spoke slowly. “He was there for hurting my mom. It was just the two of us for a long time. A little over a year ago there was a car accident. I didn’t realize she was hurt that bad. By the time I did, it was too late. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

Neil forced himself to breathe normally. Even with all the lies and half-truths, that was the most information he’d even given up before. Whether Andrew accepted it or not, well, he’d find out soon enough.

Andrew regarded him silently following that admission, no doubt dissecting Neil’s words for the truth.

“If both of them are dead, why are you still running?” he eventually asked.

Neil shook his head, ignored the nausea churning in his gut. “Not your turn.”

Whatever response Andrew might have made was lost in a sudden commotion by the main entrance.

“Dude!” a tall frat boy pounded the shoulder of his friend as he walked by. “Some sissy is getting his beta ass kicked outside!”

Andrew jumped to his feet before they could hear anything else. Alarmed, Neil followed, glancing around for Nicky as they shoved through the crowd.

“I don’t see Nicky,” Neil said. He almost had to yell to hear himself over the music and the swarming people.

Despite his size, Andrew moved through the crowd like a battering ram. At some point, he grabbed Neil’s sleeve and kept a tight hold as they finally squeezed outside. Neil froze at the sight before them.

Nicky was huddled on the pavement, curled into the fetal position, hands covering his head to protect himself from the blows that continued to rain down on his body. Four alphas surrounded him, laughing and jeering as they kicked, over and over and over. Nicky’s skin was bloodied, his clothes torn and dirty. He was crying and begging for them to stop.

Neil saw all of this in the space of a moment. That was all the time Andrew needed to throw himself into the fray.

Andrew fought wildly, recklessly, like he had nothing to lose. He felled the first alpha through sheer luck (and no doubt, surprise). The second cried out as Andrew barreled into him and knocked him flat on his back. Andrew had time for two solid punches before the other two alphas overcame their shock and went after him.

Neil had never jumped willingly into a fight before. Oh, he had fought, plenty of times. Fought for his life, for his mother’s life. Escape was the endgame though. Disengage as quickly as possible and get the hell out of there. Neil didn’t think Andrew knew how to disengage, how to walk away. He would fight until either he was dead, or they were. Neil had never jumped willingly into a fight, but Andrew had jumped into a river after him.

And so Neil followed him over the edge.

Neither Andrew nor Neil had any advantage when it came to height. Perhaps due to that, they both fought quick and dirty. It turned out Neil’s intervention finally prompted other people to move. The alphas yelled and threatened as they were pulled off by the club’s bouncers and a few members of the crowd. One of the alphas lay on the ground, groaning and holding his bloody nose. Neil saw Andrew walk toward him, saw him pull back a foot.

“Andrew, no!” Neil shoved him back. He barely managed to duck Andrew’s swing. “Stop it, they’re down! They’re not fucking worth it!”

Andrew took a step forward, growling when Neil shoved him back again. He glared at Neil, the expression on his face dark with bottomless rage. Neil knew rage, knew it every time he looked in the mirror. Andrew’s didn’t scare him. He glared right back.

“_Andrew_,” Neil said. “You have to stop.”

Andrew took a shaky breath, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Like a camera shutter closing, the anger disintegrated, leaving behind blank nothingness. Convinced he was back in control, Neil stepped aside as Andrew walked to Nicky’s side and dropped to his knees.

It didn’t take long for the cops and an ambulance to arrive. Neil stood stiffly to the side while all four alphas were handcuffed and shoved into cop cars. Enough people saw them attack Nicky, saw Andrew jump in to defend him. Even while a few of the alphas’ friends cried foul and yelled at the cops to lock up the ‘omega psychopath’, the bouncers and frazzled club-goers provided sufficient testimony to prove his innocence. Andrew remained silent and apathetic through it all.

“We’re taking your friend to the hospital,” one of the female cops told Neil. “There’s not room for all of you in the ambulance, but I can give you a ride if you need.”

Neil shook his head. “No, thank you.”

He got the address from a different cop and walked the four miles there by himself. Even late at night, the humidity stuck to Neil like a second skin. By the time he walked into the emergency room, he was dripping sweat and probably stunk. None of that mattered as his eyes found Andrew.

Andrew gave Neil an unimpressed look at his sorry state. Neil didn’t care. He walked across the busy waiting room and sat down across from Andrew, silently cataloging the blood and bruises on the other man’s skin.

“How’s Nicky?” Neil asked. His voice sounded strange to his ears.

“Alive and complaining,” Andrew said. “They ruined his favorite shirt.”

Neil coughed out a surprised laugh. “He’s okay?”

Andrew nodded. “Minor concussion. Cracked ribs. They’re waiting to see if he’s going to be peeing blood before they let him go.”

“That’s good,” Neil said absently. “All of that will heal pretty quick.”

“My turn,” Neil said several minutes later. Andrew didn’t look at him, but he knew he had his attention. “Would you have killed those alphas? For what they did to Nicky?”

Andrew slid his gaze to Neil. “Yes. Does that scare you?”

Neil shook his head.

They sat together in silence and waited.


	6. Chapter 6

After the adrenaline faded and Andrew slowly crashed back to baseline, he watched his hands shake and wondered why he didn’t care if anyone noticed. He flatly refused a nurse’s offer to look him over, settling instead on a cursory self-examination in the E.R. waiting room bathroom. In the dim, yellow light the bruises already looked garish. Most of the blood was not his own, on his face, his hands, his shirt. It might’ve belonged to Nicky, more likely belonged to the bastards who’d hurt him. He scrubbed what he could off in the shallow sink, dabbed himself dry with paper towels, and returned to the waiting room.

Neil plodded in over an hour later, sweaty and disheveled. He sat down across from Andrew, as if that spot was meant for him, as if that was where he was meant to be. But Neil didn’t blink at Andrew’s violence, or his honesty, so Andrew let him stay.

*******

Andrew still felt off-balance the next morning. The hospital decided to admit Nicky for the night, which was more than half over by that point, so Andrew and Neil spent a few hours dozing off and on in the plastic-covered waiting room chairs. Both of them jerked awake at the slightest noise, eyes finding each other instantly every time.

By a quarter to seven, a nurse came by to let Andrew know Nicky would be released by nine. Andrew stretched and kicked Neil’s shoe to wake him up. After the initial lurch of panic, Neil’s expression faded into vague annoyance and he followed Andrew out without a word.

They took a taxi back to the motel, grabbed their stuff, dropped keycards in the 24/7 office lockbox, and drove to the Greyhound station. Andrew killed the engine and rolled down his window to light a cigarette. After however many days it had been, Andrew half expected Neil to come back empty-handed; a sketchy bus station didn’t seem like the securest of locations, in his opinion. When Neil returned with a single scuffed, black duffel bag pulled possessively to his chest, Andrew said nothing.

They drove back to the hospital, retrieved Nicky, and headed home.

*******

Andrew had asked for help only once in his life. Shoved into a seat across from his newly discovered uncle, Andrew whispered a secret in Luther’s ear. A secret to scare him off, to keep Aaron far, far away from Andrew and the Spears. In retrospect, Andrew didn’t know what he’d expected to come from such an admission. Shock? Outrage? A single tear on his behalf? He’d never told anyone before, after all, not about any of them. He didn’t know what he expected. He didn’t expect dismissal.

“A misunderstanding,” Andrew repeated slowly, testing the feel of the word on his lips.

Luther’s severe face deepened further into a frown. “You are clearly too unbalanced to understand loving, brotherly affection, Andrew. Christ told us to love our brothers and our sisters, and you should seek His forgiveness for not appreciating the gift that’s been given to you.”

Bitter. The word felt bitter. Only many years later would Andrew understand that it also felt like _hurt_.

Neil jumping into the fight was never part of the plan. Neither was saving Andrew from himself when he almost went too far and killed those alphas. Andrew never asked Neil to stay, to walk himself across the city in the middle of the night, to sit down across from Andrew and accept the darkness he saw in front of him. Andrew didn’t ask for help. And yet, he received it.

He chewed on this thought the entire way to Palmetto, trying to figure out the truth of it. Truth was black and white. Perceptions, not so much (Bee taught him that). Andrew spent a lot of time in his head trying to figure that out.

Andrew drove straight to Abby’s, where he knew David would be waiting. Prior to Neil’s delayed arrival at the hospital, Andrew spoke briefly with David, assured him they’d make it back fine on their own, and promised to text an ETA the next morning.

The front door opened before Andrew pulled the key from the ignition. The three of them climbed out, Nicky more slowly and painfully. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet on the drive back. Andrew didn’t know how he felt about that either. Nicky was immediately folded into a hug by Abby, who spoke to him softly while ushering him inside. Neil hugged his duffel tighter to his chest and stayed next to the car, a wary look on his face as David approached.

David nodded at Neil, settled his gaze on Andrew. “I’ll drive Nicky home later if he wants, but I suspect he might stay here for a couple days. You good to show Neil around? He’s got the studio down the hall from you.” Andrew nodded and David tossed him a key.

David looked at Neil. “Good to have you here, Neil. Sorry it got off to a bit of a rocky start. But I guess you know how things are. I’ll stop by in a few days to see how you’re doing. Until then, relax, try not to break anything, and ask if you need something.”

“Sure,” Neil said quickly. Andrew held back a snort. Neil wouldn’t ask for water if he was dying in a desert.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Andrew commented as they drove through town. “I can hear the wheels spinning from here.” He tapped on the side of his head.

Neil sighed, staring out the window. “I can’t believe he didn’t say anything about the fight. Not even a reprimand. And – and no punishment at all?”

“Do you think I need a reprimand?” Andrew asked. He took note of Neil’s word-choices. Punishment? Interesting.

“No,” Neil said vehemently, “those assholes deserved everything they got.” He sounded frustrated. “But what alpha doesn’t defend another alpha? As _your_ alpha, it’s his job to keep you in line, right? I don’t buy all this peace, love, and flowers bullshit – I’m sorry, I don’t. No pack is that progressive.”

A muscle ticked in Andrew’s jaw. “Maybe you have a listening problem – David is not my alpha. I have zero interest in ever having someone be _my_ alpha, so quit projecting your issues onto me. Speaking of issues, buy it or don’t buy it. I really don’t care.”

“Maybe it’s easy to accept after growing up in a place like this,” Neil ground out, “but out in the real world, alpha’s are top of the food chain and – ”

“Two and a half years.”

Neil paused. “What?”

“I’ve been here two and a half years,” Andrew said flatly. “I know more about the real world than you ever will, so I suggest you shut up before I run us into a telephone pole.”

Neil did shut up. For about thirty seconds. “Where were you before?”

Andrew considered not answering. It wasn’t Neil’s turn, after all. “California.”

“Oh,” Neil said, then continued, mostly to himself. “That’s where she died.”

Andrew glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Neil seemed shocked at his own admission, lifting a finger to his mouth as if he could figure out why it had betrayed him.

They took a minor detour on the way to the apartments. Andrew tugged Neil into a grocery store and stared him down until Neil relented and added some basic items to the cart. All bland, calorie-dense, eat out of necessity foods. The cart was so depressing that Andrew threw in two pints of ice cream and a gallon of orange soda just to prove Neil wasn’t a robot. He ignored Neil’s protests and paid for the lot.

Kevin, Aaron, and Robin were lounging about the front steps when they arrived. Clearly, they’d been given a heads up about Andrew’s arrival and he felt a tiny flicker of annoyance at having to deal with any more people today. All he wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep for the next forty-eight hours.

Something crashed to the ground behind him, and Andrew glanced over his shoulder in time to see the soda twirl and fizz its neon contents all over the sidewalk. Neil had dropped it. And he was staring past Andrew like he’d seen a ghost. He stumbled back a step, clutching hard at his duffel. He was poised to run.

Suddenly less tired, Andrew looked between Neil and Kevin, the focus of his attention. Kevin, for his part, had the same haughty, staring-at-ants-through-a-magnifying-glass expression he normally wore as he regarded Neil and his strange behavior.

“This is him?” Kevin asked, giving Neil a once-over before looking at Andrew expectantly.

“Your Kevin… is Kevin Day,” Neil murmured softly. “Why didn’t I know that?”

It seemed like a rhetorical question. Still, Andrew stared at him hard as he answered. “Why would you know that? Why, do you know him?”

Neil quickly shook his head, gaze darting to Andrew. “No. No, I just. I know _of_ him.”

Aaron snorted and laced his hands behind his head. “Great. That’ll help his ego.” Only Robin stayed quiet, watching Neil with a slight frown on her face. Like Andrew, she did more observing than interacting.

Andrew didn’t buy Neil’s response. Neil wasn’t half as good at hiding his emotions as he thought he was, and underneath the now carefully placed calm Andrew saw naked fear. Why would Neil be scared of Kevin?

The obvious answer was, of course, Riko. Or Kevin’s prior association with Riko.

As part of the Evermore Pack, Kevin had been famous for recruiting and matching shifters all over the U.S. Evermore ruled shifter bidding, it ran the National Bidding Process, and it hosted all bidding events on the East Coast. It also quietly and secretly oversaw all trafficking efforts in and out of the country. Aside from Riko, Kevin had been their best procurer of goods.

Considering Neil’s recent stay in a cage, it made sense for him to be nervous around someone like Kevin Day. Andrew continued to eye Neil for a moment. It made sense, but he was missing something. He didn’t like that.

“Kevin, meet Neil Josten. Neil, meet Kevin Day. Also, long-lost twin Aaron and long-lost shadow Robin. All members of Palmetto. All repenting for our wicked ways. There. All acquainted now.” Andrew kicked the soda out of the way and started toward the doors.

“What?” Neil said, a note of alarm back in his voice. “Since when are you part of Palmetto? You belong to Evermore.” He turned to Andrew. “I am _not_ staying in the same place as him! No way.”

Neil had no clue how on the nose the comment about ‘belonging’ was. Kevin paled while a simultaneous flush rose to his cheeks.

“I don’t see why Andrew went after you,” Kevin sneered. “Even if I did still belong to Evermore, you have nothing of interest to me. Someone like you would be a complete waste of time.”

Andrew expected an angry retort. Unexpectedly, something like relief flashed across Neil’s face instead.

“Why are you even here?” Neil asked. He loosened the death grip on his bag. “Decided to try slumming it for a bit? Bags of fame and money not doing it for you anymore?”

Kevin scowled and looked to Andrew. “Really? This is what you picked out?”

“Next time I’ll be sure to line them all up in cages and let you pick your favorite first,” Andrew responded mildly. Kevin paled further. “Oh, wait.”

“Whatever,” Kevin said sulkily. “He better not get in my way.”

“Or what?” Neil snapped. “You’ll turn me over to your family?”

“Both of you shut up,” Andrew said. Neil looked annoyed and Kevin offended. “Neil, unless you plan on sleeping in the hallway, get your shit and hurry up.”

Kevin and Neil exchanged one final scathing glance before Neil trailed Andrew up the stairs. Andrew would have figure out what the hell that was all about, he just didn’t have to do it right away. Now he just needed to sleep.

Neil followed him to the third floor, clutching the remaining bag of groceries and his ever-present duffel. He jumped slightly when Andrew whirled around and tossed him a key. Neil stared at the key like he’d never seen one before.

“321,” Andrew informed him, nodding to his left. “I’m 317. If you need anything, don’t bother me. You’ll find the do-gooders on the second floor.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Neil’s face. “Do-gooders? And what exactly does that make you?”

Andrew stared at him. “I will throw you out the window.”

Neil smirked. “Uh huh.”

Andrew yanked open his door and closed it firmly behind him before Neil could say anything else.

*******

As expected, Matt, Dan, and co. took Neil under their wings over the next several weeks. Or, rather, they tried to. Neil seemed oddly resistant to their attention, ducking out of group activities at times and outright avoiding them at others. Andrew knew all this because he found Neil sharing the back wall with him almost every night since their arrival.

Their apartment building backed up into rather dense trees and wild, overgrown grass, so no one bothered ducking through the jungle of weeds and kudzu to reach the back yard. When Andrew first discovered it years ago, he was surprised to find it in less of a state of disrepair than it first appeared. Underneath all of nature’s additions, it was simply a small, cement patio, shaded naturally by the trees, and blocked from view completely by its half-basement positioning. Andrew cleared it off, dragged out a folding chair and a blanket, and claimed it as his own. No one bothered him.

Neil stumbled onto it his fourth night in Palmetto. It was almost dark out, and he froze when he walked around the corner and saw Andrew curled in his chair holding an unlit cigarette. Andrew didn’t tell him to leave.

After several nights of Neil turning up with scratches on his shins from traipsing unprotected through the overgrowth, Andrew rolled his eyes and showed Neil the disarmed fire-exit in the basement. A couple nights later Neil dragged his own chair outside, and Andrew scooted over a couple inches to allow it. They didn’t talk a lot, and that was fine.

Summer sweltered in early August. Andrew hated the cold, but he didn’t particularly like extreme heat either. After nearly an hour of sweating and listening to crickets one evening, Andrew decided to shift. His ocelot form was better equipped to handle heat and it would give him an excuse to blow up some spent-up energy.

Even though it was long past the time Neil normally showed up, Andrew would never risk stripping down somewhere others could see. He piled his phone and armbands into the chair and took off into the woods. The temperature was already cooler by the time he reached a small clearing. After glancing around once more, Andrew shed his remaining clothes, took a deep breath, and let the shift flow over him.

It didn’t happen like the movies. Bones didn’t crunch and twist, there was so screaming in agony or writhing on the ground. It wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Intense pressure described it best. One moment Andrew was crouched down as a human, his entire body filled with pressure so intense it felt like a pinprick would make him explode like a balloon, and then he was standing on all fours, staring out at the world with sharp, feline senses. It always took a few moments to acclimate. Once he did, once he could dig his claws into the dirt beneath him and taste and hear and smell everything around him, Andrew took off at a run.

He stopped at a stream sometime later, lapping at the water and swatting at water-bugs that got in his way. The forest was filled with noise and life at that late hour. Crickets, toads, an occasional owl, distant coyotes. Andrew’s sensitive ears flicked back and forth, cataloging the sounds but not really paying attention unless it registered as a threat. Ocelots weren’t top of the food chain by any means, but they were definitely predators, not prey.

Andrew was considering heading back when a new scent reached him. Shifters inherently recognized other shifters, no matter their form, so Andrew knew one was close by. He growled lowly, annoyed that someone would intrude on his solitude. A flash of grey and white appeared behind a tree. Andrew crouched, belly brushing the forest floor as he waited for his quarry to show itself.

A moment later it did. A small grey and white fox slunk from behind a tree, crouching to the ground in imitation of Andrew’s stance and staring at him with wide, blue eyes. The scent took a moment to register and Andrew snorted softly in recognition. Neil. Neil was an actual fox. Of course he was.

Andrew blinked slowly at Neil before sitting up slightly and settling into a lazy sprawl. Neil hesitated, stood up, and padded closer before settling on the ground a few feet away. Andrew growled deep in his throat when Neil got too close, to which Neil simply flicked his ears and sat down anyway. They were matched fairly evenly in size, somewhere around 3 feet long, though Andrew’s dense, feline form definitely held greater mass than Neil’s fox. Andrew also knew his claws and teeth were sharper, which he liked.

After sitting for a while, Neil grew restless and started bothering Andrew – apparently, for fun. Neil scooted forward in tiny movements, darting back whenever he got too close and Andrew gave a half-hearted swipe. His toothy grin said he was enjoying the game. Eventually, Andrew grew annoyed and pounced in Neil’s direction. Neil yelped, jumping out of the way and running in a wide circle. When he settled in front of Andrew again, he was panting and wagging his tail.

They played like this for a while. Later, Andrew would wonder at his own actions. For the moment, he simply entertained Neil’s boundless energy and wondered if this was what others referred to as fun.

They ran back together, both light-footed and nearly silent in the darkness. Neil took off on his own when they got close to the apartments, presumably to find his own clothes and shift in privacy.

Andrew found Neil is his usual chair on the patio, doing his best to look nonchalant. He couldn’t quite hide his grin as Andrew dropped down into the other seat and quickly tugged on his armbands, careful to keep his forearms turned inward as he did. 

“I think the others should know that you purr,” Neil and his stupid mouth said.

Andrew shot him a look. “I do not _purr_.”

“I’m pretty sure you do.”

“I’m pretty sure I hate you.”

Neil grinned. “Only pretty sure?”

Andrew lit a cigarette and refused to dignify that with a response.

“You know foxes are rare, right?” Andrew asked a bit later. “Not the best survival tactic to let everyone know about you.”

“You’re hardly everyone,” Neil said, leaning back in his chair, watching the sky.

“I could _tell_ everyone,” Andrew stressed. Did Neil really not understand the danger of that secret? If the traffickers had known about Neil, they never would have let him get away. His value surpassed the entirety of the rest of the lot combined.

“But you won’t,” Neil said.

Andrew flicked ash onto the ground. “You don’t know that.”

“My turn then,” Neil continued, turning his head toward Andrew. “Will you tell anyone I’m a fox?”

“It’s still not your turn,” Andrew replied.

“I gave you a truth on credit. I think I deserve a free turn.”

“You deserve to drown in a lake.”

Neil just kept looking at him, nonplussed.

“No,” Andrew finally said. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Neil smiled. Andrew turned away so he wouldn’t be tempted to wipe that look off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to anyone who is reading, reviewing, leaving kudos, etc.! I'm having a blast writing this and hope you're enjoying it just as much! :)


	7. Chapter 7

The cries of distant birds floated eerily on the breeze as it whipped cold and sharp around Neil. He shivered, tugging his coat tighter around himself before trudging back inside.

Breckenridge really was beautiful. Even in Fall, before it reached its peak season that brought the sleepy, snow-covered town to life as thousands of tourists poured into its famous ski lodge and resort, Neil could see its appeal. If not for the horrific atrocities that occurred behind closed doors, that was.

“We’re going where?” Nicky asked a few weeks prior. Several of the Foxes sat gathered in David’s living room, discussing their next big mission – operation? Neil didn’t know the right term exactly. Absurdly, it felt almost similar to a pre-game team meeting. Let’s figure out a strategy against that next team – who are their best players? What are their weaknesses? Neil had only ever played obligatory sports during his time in Millport, but maybe that had just been life’s ironic way of preparing him for this. 

“Breckenridge, Colorado,” Dan answered. “They operate primarily as a public ski-resort, so even though it’s technically their pack lands, pretty much anyone is welcome.”

Seated next to Nicky on the couch, Neil stayed silent while Nicky openly scoffed.

“Yeah, I know who they are, I just don’t get why we’re going at all,” Nicky said. “Weren’t they buddy-buddy with Evermore like two seconds ago? Now they’re our number one vacation destination?”

A few murmurs of ascent echoed around David’s living room where several Foxes had gathered. Neil didn’t particularly like being in such close proximity to a Pack Alpha, but after a couple of months in Palmetto, he found it didn’t bother him as much as before.

Also in attendance were Matt, Seth, and Allison crammed together in a loveseat, along with Aaron, Kevin, and Andrew sitting opposite. Of those living in the Tower, as Neil had taken to calling their apartment building, only Renee and Robin were missing. Apparently, Renee was helping Robin through a heat. Neil squirmed uncomfortably just thinking about it. It also made him uncomfortable how openly the others had shared that piece of information. Didn’t they know heats were dangerous?

“Yes, well they’ve had a change of heart,” Dan said firmly, crossing her arms. “Their new Alpha has been an outspoken critic against bidding and trafficking ever since he took over, and he’s asked us there, as guests, to discuss how we can work together going forward.”

“Change of heart, my ass,” Aaron muttered.

Matt shot him a look. “It’s not like you’re going anyway, so why do you care?”

“I care that you guys are idiots if you think people like them actually change,” Aaron retorted angrily. “Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit.”

“Speaking from experience?” Seth asked snidely.

“Fuck you!” Aaron moved as if to lurch to his feet, but Andrew, sprawled in the corner next to him, shot out a hand and clamped it tightly around Aaron’s forearm, tugging him back down to his seat. Aaron huffed and shot his twin a deathly glare. Andrew just looked bored.

“Yeah, that’s right, listen to your guard dog,” Seth said.

“Seth,” Dan warned. “Enough.”

Seth made a face and crossed his arms, leaning back against Allison.

Dan went on to describe what they hoped to accomplish on this trip and, more importantly, who would be attending. To Neil’s chagrin, the list included Kevin.

Even with Neil's natural blue eyes, Kevin had not shown a hint of recognition as to his true identity. Granted, most of the looking he did in passing or to even purposefully ignore him. That didn’t stop Neil from worrying. Even now, his instincts told him to _run, run, run_! His mother would’ve had them on the road the moment Kevin appeared – no, scratch that – she never would’ve allowed them in a close-knit community like Palmetto in the first place. Allowing others to know you, to remember you, meant they could – and _would_ – rat you out. But…

Andrew. Infuriating, pint-sized, contradictory Andrew had let Neil stay. Had continued telling him to stay through small, inane actions like letting Neil invade his space and keeping Neil’s secrets. Neil knew he couldn’t stay forever. He wouldn’t put the others in danger like that – wouldn’t put Andrew in danger like that. But he would stay for now, for just a few more months.

“Close the door!” Kevin complained. “You’re letting all the heat out!”

Neil was tempted to hold the door open a few seconds longer than necessary just to annoy Kevin, currently seated at the tiny kitchen table adjacent to the front door, pouring over reports. Kevin had been more on edge than usual since arriving in Breckenridge two days ago. It wasn’t his first trip there, but it was his first trip without Riko.

“Maybe don’t sit next to the door then,” Neil said, letting it swing shut behind him.

Just past the kitchen, Andrew sat curled in an armchair next to the fireplace, wrapped in the largest, puffiest coat Neil had ever seen, and cradling a steaming cup of coffee between gloved fingertips.

“Cold?” Neil asked mildly, plopping down on the couch. He didn’t think it was _that_ cold in the cabin.

Andrew took a small sip without answering.

“I don’t think we bought enough firewood to keep that thing going all night,” Neil continued. “But luckily Kevin blows enough hot air to keep us all warm.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Kevin called back, annoyed.

Andrew eyes flickered briefly to Neil. “I’m already planning to use you as kindling if we run out.” He took another sip of coffee.

“Humans don’t burn hot enough on their own,” Neil said. He instantly regretted it as his mother’s corpse flashed into mind. The sharp snaps and hisses as the fire ate away her flesh, dissolved her into nothing but hot, grainy ash and scorched bones. Bones that he’d carried, cradled to his chest, until he couldn’t walk any longer. He could still feel the sand tearing into his fingertips as he dug a shallow grave, could smell the nauseating aroma of cooked meat and gasoline and –

Something hit him in the forehead. Neil snapped to attention, glanced up to see Andrew’s blank stare right as he tossed a candy in his mouth.

Neil looked at his lap, at the tiny yellow candy that had rolled between his thighs.

“Did you just… hit me with an m&m?” Neil asked incredulously.

Andrew responded by doing it again. That time it hit Neil’s cheek.

“Really?” Neil said.

Andrew shrugged. “Just checking.”

“Checking what?”

“That you hadn’t run away.”

Neil crossed his arms, unimpressed. “I’m right here.”

Andrew cocked his head slightly. “Now you are.”

“You’re insane.”

“Old news,” Andrew replied. “Try for a new headline tomorrow.” He proceeded to dump his remaining m&ms in his drink, swirl it around, and take another long sip.

The trip to Breckenridge thus far had been… complicated, to say the least. It seemed the Pack Alpha did stand firmly against both legal shifter bidding and illegal trafficking, only his reasoning had nothing to do with the violation of rights. No, he stood firmly by the rigid hierarchical structures that insisted alphas led, betas worked, and omegas bred. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t think the National Bidding Process should be involved in internal pack affairs, and he didn’t think packs should have to operate under the table to supply themselves with needed members. In his ideal world, if a pack needed more omegas, they simply went and took them from the unaligned, pack-less shifters who called themselves ‘independent’. With no pack, they had no rights, and no grounds to decline.

They found all this out the first evening while at an obscenely expensive catered dinner which only the alphas had been invited to. Andrew about had a fit when he found out Kevin was going without him. It took a lot of yelling on David’s part and cajoling on Kevin’s to convince him to back down. In the end, Andrew waited on the front steps twirling a knife between his fingers until Kevin returned.

Neil didn’t quite know what to make of that relationship. It fascinated him to see an alpha under an omega’s protection, who listened and clearly trusted in the latter’s ability to keep him safe. Throw in the fact that it was Kevin and Andrew? Well, that fascinated him even more.

The door opened again, met with newly annoyed complaints from Kevin. A moment later, David walked in, followed closely by Matt and Dan. All of them looked unhappy. Dan looked downright murderous.

“We’ve been officially ‘uninvited’,” she announced. “I can’t believe this. After all these months of talking and thinking we actually had a powerful public ally. It’s not fucking fair.”

“No, it’s pretty fucked,” David agreed. “Neil, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind for your first time out. Guess it gets your feet wet, either way.”

Neil shrugged lightly. “Sorry, but I’m not really surprised. Breckenridge was part of the Evermore conglomerate for three decades – that kind of conditioning doesn’t just disappear overnight. Not to mention they helped fund - ”

Everyone except Andrew turned to stare at him. Neil shifted uncomfortably. “What?”

“You actually read the briefings Kevin wrote?” Matt asked. “I’ve never once read one of those.”

Behind him, Kevin scowled deeply.

“Yes, congratulations, now I know at least two of you here can read,” David said, shaking his head. “We’re getting out of here tonight, but there’s a little hiccup. Dan, you wanna explain?”

Dan rubbed her forehead tiredly, nodding. “Yeah, so I was approached earlier today, by a young mother with twin omega daughters. They’ve apparently been promised to another pack, and she just found out they’re taking them next week. The girls are only thirteen.”

She let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “She wants us to get the girls out. I say screw that, let’s get them all out. Tonight.”

“I’ve already called in some favors,” David added. “It’ll be pretty obvious we had something to do with their disappearance, which is why we’ll hand them off to a friend before we get on a plane in Denver. There will be accusations, but they can bitch and moan all they want. Without proof, there’s nothing they can do about it.”

Neil’s heart rate picked up the more they talked. He knew what the Foxes did – obviously, he knew – he just didn’t think shit would go down this time around. Only a couple weeks had passed since David approached him about getting involved, after all. Neil’s instincts immediately screamed _no fucking way_. He’d been ignoring his instincts a lot lately.

*******

A few hours later, Neil found himself sitting shotgun inside a dark car with Andrew and Kevin. After driving north a little way, they pulled off the shoulder and backed the car into dense enough brush to hide its immediate presence from passerbys. Kevin fidgeted in the back, keys clicking rapidly as he messed with his laptop, while in the driver’s seat Andrew sat deadly calm, gaze focused unwaveringly on the road.

“They’re coming,” he said suddenly, opening the door.

Neil slid out behind him and watched warily as a blue sedan pulled off the highway and crunched over gravel as it came to a stop several feet away. David and Dan got out, followed quickly by a small, brown-haired woman and two identical teenage daughters. Matt had gone on ahead to Denver to arrange the pass-off.

“Kevin,” David said, speaking in a low voice. “You’re up.”

The three females stood quietly, huddled together out of fear and cold while Kevin traced a wand back and forth across their bodies, searching for trackers, listening devices, or any other traceable electronics. After several tense, silent minutes, Kevin straightened up and smiled tightly at them. When he walked over to David his smile was gone.

“We can’t,” he said. “They’re chipped.”

“Can’t you take them out?” Neil asked, glancing at the girls. They were just kids. Scared, frightened kids.

“Obviously I would if I could,” Kevin snapped. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple,” David said. “What would you need to disable the chips?”

“I _can’t_ disable them,” Kevin said, “that’s the problem. It’s highly sophisticated. We’d have a better chance of disabling the whole fence.”

“Then disable the goddamn fence,” Neil shot back.

Kevin’s eyes widened. “Why are you even talking if you have nothing useful to contribute?”

“Both of you, knock it off,” David growled. “Kevin, how do we disable the fence?”

Kevin rolled his eyes skyward. “You can’t – it’s not just some on-off switch, people. Just the north section alone has probably ten different conductor stations. You’d have to go to each one, enter a series of codes, and turn it off. And that’s assuming you could do it fast enough to disable them all before someone notices. There’s no way.”

“Eight,” Andrew said suddenly. “There’s eight stations and they span a five-mile stretch. The codes alternate but follow the same pattern every time. Not super clever.”

All eyes settled on Andrew.

“Okay,” David said slowly. “And how do you propose reaching all of those without getting noticed? We can’t take a car, and I’m pretty sure none of us are that fast on foot.”

“Maybe not as humans,” Andrew replied evenly.

David caught on quickly and shook his head. “Andrew, you’re talking about a minimum of nine shifts in a matter of hours. That’s asking a lot, even for me. I want a no bullshit answer out of you – are you sure you can do that?”

“I’m sure,” Andrew said.

Kevin shook his head incredulously, but David just nodded. “Okay.”

Neil watched Andrew as Kevin quickly talked him through codes and routes. Andrew seemed utterly calm, not frazzled in the least by eight different sets of numbers or confusing, untested routes.

“I’m going with you,” Neil said suddenly.

Kevin glanced at him, frowning, while Andrew raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Says who?” Andrew asked.

“You need someone to watch your back,” Neil said. By that point he’d gotten the others’ attention as well. “I won’t have to shift back and forth, so I can stay alert while you’re disabling the stations. By the time you get to the last one, you’ll be so tired you wouldn’t notice a bomb going off. You need me.”

“No one needs you,” Andrew replied flippantly.

“Neil, it’s really dangerous,” Dan said. “You’ve never done anything like this before, so –”

“I know it’s fucking dangerous,” Neil snapped. He wanted to add that Andrew always had their backs, but no one ever had his. It was really starting to piss him off that no one else seemed to notice that.

“Are you fast enough to keep up with him?” David asked.

Neil nodded quickly.

“Ok, fine, you’re in.” David pointed a finger at Andrew. “No smart comments from you. This was your idea, so deal with it.”

Andrew made a face like he’d tasted something sour. In the end, he didn’t argue.

*******

They changed out of sight from the others. Neil didn’t want to reveal his shifter form, so he remained crouched in the tall grass until Andrew padded his way and gave him a lazy, feline blink. They took off.

Andrew streaked through the trees, lithe and graceful, slowing every so often to get his bearings before taking off once more. Neil kept pace but he’d be surprised if he could feel his feet in the morning.

The first station went quickly. Neil averted his eyes and kept his back to Andrew while he shifted back to human form. They hadn’t exactly planned for such an excursion, so Andrew would be naked every time he shifted. Neil knew how he’d feel if their situations were reversed, so he kept his focus aimed solely forward, listening for threats. Soon enough, Andrew flicked his tail in Neil’s direction, and they took off again.

Two, three, four. By number five, Andrew started to slow down. When he shifted to human, Neil could hear his quick, labored breaths and Neil could practically smell his fatigue. Neil had never shifted more than three or four times throughout the course of an entire day, and he still remembered how exhausting that had been.

Six, seven. Andrew crouched on the ground after a noticeably slower shift back to ocelot. His mouth was parted slightly, panting. Neil nudged his side. Andrew hissed and swiped at him, but it got him to his feet. They ran.

Andrew entered the eighth set of codes and it was done. Neil could only hope they’d been fast enough.

They moved at a considerably slower pace on the way back. Only David would be waiting for them, having sent the others ahead the moment the fence dropped. Neil slowed to match Andrew’s pace, nipping and bothering him whenever they slowed a little too much. When the car finally came into view, Neil huffed softly in relief.

Neil shifted first, crouched on the far side of the car. David had noticed him, of course, and tossed him his clothes without question. After quickly tugging on his jeans and a t-shirt, Neil grabbed a blanket and walked to where Andrew had settled on the ground. He hadn’t shifted.

“Here,” Neil said, spreading the blanket over him. “If you can’t shift yet, at least get warm.”

Andrew side-eyed him. Neil turned away and a moment later, heard him shift and climb slowly to his feet.

“Can we get out of here already? It's fucking cold,” Andrew said, blanket pulled tightly around him and teeth chattering as he stalked past Neil to the car. Or rather, he tried to stalk – the effect was somewhat lessened by his visibly shaking limbs.

“Andrew,” Neil said. He reached out a hand, pulled it back at the last second. Andrew paused anyway, looking back at him.

“Ask me a question,” Neil said.

Andrew regarded him. “Why?”

“Because then it’ll be my turn again. Ask me a question.”

Andrew thought for a minute, even turning away briefly. “Why did you come with me tonight?”

“Because…” Neil sighed. “You look after all of them, and no one looks after you. Not really. It’s not fair.”

“So what,” Andrew said, “you decided to even the odds?”

“I knew you’d tell me to fuck off if I asked, so decided to do it anyway,” Neil answered.

Andrew stared at him. “I don’t need anyone looking after me.”

Neil huffed softly. “My turn. Why do you do this? Any of this? What you put yourself through tonight, that’s… For someone who says they don’t care about anything, you sure put a lot of effort into it. Why do you do it, Andrew?”

Andrew stayed quiet for so long, Neil thought he wouldn’t answer. David started the car and the faint sounds of music floated out to them.

“I do this because no one ever did it for me.”

Neil looked at Andrew, felt the weight of his words even if he didn’t fully understand the meaning.

“Okay,” Neil said.

Andrew got in the car and shut the door behind him. By the time Neil climbed into the back seat a few moments later, Andrew was sound asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: flashbacks

_It’s not real._

He told himself that, the first time it happened. Ghosts, they’re only ghosts, memories, nightmares. Ghosts don’t have bodies to hold him down, fingers to press bruises into his arms, hot breath to puff against his neck. They couldn’t make him whimper in pain or tremble in fear. Ghosts didn’t have tongues to lap at the salty tears rolling down his cheeks.

It’s not real.

Andrew told himself that now, curled his hands hard enough to press half moons into his palms.

“Andrew, I want you to open your eyes if you can. See where you are. You’re safe. You’re in my office with me.”

The familiar voice rolled over him, barely scraping at the dense fog that had wrapped its way around Andrew’s mind. He wanted to listen, wanted badly to hear anything except the voice grunting in his ear, the bedsprings squeaking beneath him.

“I’m going to keep talking so you know where you are, okay? It’s Betsy Dobson. We’re having our weekly session on Thursday, October 23rd. You’re having a flashback, Andrew. It’s very normal, but it’s not actually happening. Whatever you’re experiencing right now, it happened a long time ago and it can’t hurt you. You’re safe now.”

Andrew dragged in a deep breath, managed to hold it for a few seconds. He could still feel the cold metal of dog-tags pressed against his back.

“Good, Andrew, that’s good. Deep breath in – 2 – 3 – 4, and out – 2 – 3 – 4. Again.”

Bee kept talking, gently counting breaths and murmuring encouragement as Andrew slowly clawed his way back to the surface. Eventually he opened his eyes, saw the slightly blurry outline of Bee’s coffee table and his cooling mug of hot chocolate.

“Can you tell me what you’re seeing right now, Andrew?” Bee asked. “Here, in this room.”

Andrew exhaled slowly, tried to ignore the flashes of skin and sheets and faces. Not real.

“Your coffee table,” he answered after a long pause. “Congealing hot chocolate.”

“Good, that’s very good. And what are you hearing?”

Andrew flinched a little at the crude words the ghosts whispered in his ear, clenched his fists again. “An over-talkative therapist.”

“That sounds about right too,” Bee said. He could hear the slight smile in her voice. “Let’s keep going, okay? Tell me something you can smell.”

He had to concentrate a little harder for that one. “Lavender.” The ghosts retreated a little more.

“That’s right, lavender candles on the table. And what about taste? What can you taste?”

Andrew swallowed, ignoring the bitterness on his tongue. _Not real._

“Chocolate,” Andrew said. And just like that, the memory collapsed. It felt like a deflating balloon. Every exhale and answer deflated it a little more until, quite suddenly, it was gone. Andrew dragged his eyes to Bee. He felt worn out and numb, but no longer panicked. No longer stuck in the horror show of his mind.

Bee smiled softly. “Let’s breathe a little longer, then we’ll warm up your chocolate and if you’re feeling up to it, we’ll keep going.”

“I don’t know,” Andrew said a bit later, cradling a newly warm mug between his palms. “I don’t know what caused it.”

“That’s not unusual,” Bee replied. “Flashbacks can almost seem random at times – the triggers aren’t always obvious, and sometimes it’s not just one thing, but a whole stack of little things that simply becomes too much.”

Andrew imagined a game of Jenga, stacked up and up and up, until the wrong one sent the whole thing tumbling down.

“Now, with your permission, I would like to explore what might have brought this on,” Bee continued. “Flashbacks aren’t a usual occurrence for you, and I don’t want to send you back out into the world without some insight. And perhaps preparation, in case it happens outside of my office.”

“It won’t,” Andrew said. “I won’t let it.”

Bee tilted her head slightly. “Can you explain what you mean by that?” When Andrew only shrugged, she said, “Okay if I take a guess? Do you mean you think you have the techniques to stop a flashback before it happens, or that you won’t allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to reach that state?”

Andrew didn’t see the point in responding when Bee clearly knew the correct answer.

“Well,” Bee went on, unfazed. “I’m honored that you give yourself space to be vulnerable with me, Andrew. It’s healthy to let these things out. And I have to wonder if perhaps giving up some space to Neil lately might have brought a little of this on?”

“What?” Andrew said. “Neil has nothing to do with any of this. He’s nothing to me.”

Bee nodded. “Okay, be that as it may, he is a fairly new presence in your life. Humor me, if you would. You told me how Neil’s been spending time with you, a lot of which was previously time you spent in solitude, how he expressed the desire to look out for you and seemed to do so. What I’m hearing is you’ve allowed him space, Andrew. He’s gotten close to you quite quickly, under some rather intense circumstances. All things considered; it wouldn’t be surprising if you were feeling a little vulnerable.”

Andrew stared down at his hot chocolate. “I’m not.”

“And if you were?” Bee pressed. “Would you tell yourself it’s okay to be vulnerable?”

He kept staring.

“Andrew?”

“No,” he finally said. “Why would that be okay?”

“It’s okay in here. Isn’t it possible it might be okay to be vulnerable with someone else, at least sometimes?”

Andrew shook his head. “You talk about vulnerability like it’s not the very antithesis of being safe. It’s simple, being vulnerable means getting hurt. I’m not a fan of getting hurt.”

“And do you think,” Bee asked gently, “that the men who hurt you did it because you were vulnerable?”

It felt like a sucker-punch. Andrew squeezed the cup hard and waited for his lungs to start working again.

“What I’m getting at,” Bee continued, still gentle, “is that you associate vulnerability with your trauma, Andrew. For good reason – I don’t mean to minimize that at all, I hope you know that. But vulnerability can also be incredibly healing and healthy. Sharing what’s inside, your pain, your fears, your hopes, that’s a beautiful thing. I know you’re capable of it, Andrew. I’ll keep my faith in you, even when you can’t.”

*******

Bee’s words played on a loop in his head. Andrew didn’t like being caught unaware and he felt mildly resentful at Bee for doing exactly that – not like it was her job or anything. Andrew didn’t waste time on regrets or worrying about the past. He couldn’t help that his body and some parts of his mind hadn’t received that memo. So he sat on a therapist’s couch once a week and let her pull those pieces out, slap scotch tape on them, and push them back inside just a little less broken.

The part he felt most hung up about was Neil. Why the hell would Bee drag Neil into this? He had no part in Andrew’s life, past or present. Definitely not future. It was a complete waste of time even thinking about him.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, the object of his annoyance strolled into view and stared down at Andrew with a confused expression.

“Um, why are you lying on the ground?” Neil asked.

Andrew, who was currently flat on his back in the middle of the public park, waved Neil off. “You’re blocking my sun.”

“There’s no sun,” Neil said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “And it looks like it’s going to rain.”

“The human body is 60% water,” Andrew replied. “The brain is 73%, lungs are 83%, and skin is 64%. A little water isn’t going to hurt me.”

“Did you memorize all that in an encyclopedia?” Neil asked.

"I think you mean Wikipedia."

"What's a wikipedia?"

Andrew closed his eyes. “Who’s following who now?”

“I’m not following you,” Neil said. “Kevin’s freaking out about something and, as I have zero interest in dealing with that, I decided to come find you.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a phone?”

“I’ve heard of them. But I don’t have one.”

Andrew cracked open an eye and regarded Neil with his over-washed jeans, too-large shirt, and ill-fitting sneakers. “Of course you don’t.”

“Why would I need a phone?” Neil asked. It seemed like a genuine question.

Andrew rolled to his feet and started toward home.

“You’re getting a phone,” he said.

“What? Why?” Neil protested. “What would I do with a phone?”

“Phones 101: calling, texting, googling ‘how to use a phone’.”

Neil shook his head. “It’s a waste of money. I won’t use it.”

“Unless you do.”

Andrew expected Neil to run off once they got back to the apartments – he and Kevin rarely had a civil word to say to one another - and so was somewhat surprised when Neil followed him to Kevin’s door.

“Not following?” Andrew said sarcastically. Neil raised an eyebrow.

Kevin yanked open the door immediately, white-faced and unsteady with an open bottle of vodka clutched in his right hand. Andrew’s previous calm threatened to dissipate – only one thing got Kevin that worked up.

“He called,” Kevin said. “He got my number and he called, and he knows, and he said – ”

“Inside,” Andrew ordered, poking Kevin in the chest. Kevin nodded shakily, barely glancing at Neil as he followed them inside.

“Riko called me,” Kevin repeated in a near-whisper. He sat heavily on the couch and took a long swig from the bottle.

Andrew didn’t miss the way Neil’s entire body stilled, zeroing in on Kevin’s words.

“Give me your phone,” Andrew said.

Kevin blinked. “What?”

“Your phone, Kevin. I’ve got a call to make.”

Kevin immediately started shaking his head. “No, no way. You’ll only make him angrier. You don’t know what he’s capable of, Andrew. I haven’t even told you everything.”

“Phone,” Andrew repeated, holding out his hand.

Kevin grimaced before fishing his phone out of his pocket and slapping it in Andrew’s hand. He groaned, set down the vodka, and cradled his face in his hands.

“Andrew, what the hell is going on?” Neil asked.

Andrew shook his head, “Later”, he said, and dialed the last incoming number on Kevin’s phone. The line clicked as the other end picked up.

“Kevin,” Riko greeted. “I’m glad you’ve considered my offer. It’s about time – ”

“Whoops, sorry, Kevin’s currently out of commission. I guess you get me instead.”

Silence. Then, “Andrew, I presume?”

“You presume correctly,” Andrew said. “Now repeat whatever offer you made to Kevin. I’m dying to hear it.”

Riko laughed lightly. “Still has an omega doing his dirty work for him. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Kevin never did have much of a backbone.”

“Did you call just to hear yourself talk?”

“I looked into you, you know,” Riko said. “After our little meeting. Funny thing, the foster system. Most of the records are sealed.”

“Boring,” Andrew said. “That isn’t why you called.”

“No,” Riko agreed as his voice took on an edge. “I called because once again, you and your pathetic pack have taken something that’s _mine_. I only found out last week. I was really looking forward to enjoying my new twins.”

Andrew’s breath froze as echoes of similar words whispered through his mind.

“I told Kevin to either send them to me, or come himself,” Riko continued. “There’s only so much I will tolerate from – ”

“Sorry, go fish,” Andrew said. He hung up, dropped the phone to the floor, and smashed it under his heel. Both Kevin and Neil stared at him.

“Kevin, you need a new phone.” Andrew walked out.

*******

Neil followed him, of course. Between a tumultuous therapy session and dealing with Riko’s bullshit, Andrew had no energy to tell him to fuck off. He allowed Neil to follow him outside, then when he changed his mind, back up to the third floor. Andrew paused outside his apartment, waiting for Neil to peel off, but Neil just gazed back blankly. Shrugging, Andrew let him inside.

Aside from Renee and Nicky, Andrew had never let someone else into his apartment before. Well, Renee he’d allowed. Nicky had barged in and then backed out at knifepoint. Andrew didn’t know what possessed him to allow Neil in.

They settled side by side on the couch while Neil flipped through channels and Andrew dug his way through a pint of mint chip ice cream. Perhaps picking up Andrew’s need for silence, Neil didn’t talk and they watched a Halloween-themed baking show for a couple hours. When the tv had the nerve to ask if they were still watching, Andrew sighed lightly and looked at Neil.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Andrew said. He leaned his head back against the couch.

Neil looked at him. “Had what?”

“The ability to keep your mouth shut for more than three minutes.”

“Ha. Ha.”

They were quiet for a couple minutes before Andrew continued. “I assume one of the other busybodies already told you about Kevin?”

Neil nodded. “Nicky, mostly. But it didn’t make a lot of sense.”

That didn’t surprise Andrew. Slowly, he told Neil what he knew of the Moriyamas – the complicated division between the main family and the branch family, the true source of their wealth and power, and Kevin’s role in it all. Neil listened intently but without any trace of alarm, nodding or asking a question every so often for clarification. He seemed considerably less disturbed than most people would be upon hearing such ugly truths.

“He wants Kevin back,” Neil said, when Andrew was done.

“He wants his property back,” Andrew corrected.

Neil nodded, averting his eyes for a moment. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” he said.

“And you think that surprises me?” Andrew replied.

“Yeah, I know,” Neil said, giving him a look. He paused, clearly gathering his thoughts. “I told you my father was in prison for hurting my mom. That’s not… He did, hurt her, but that’s not why he went to prison. He stole money from one of his business partners. When he got caught, my mom and I took it and ran. I’ve been running ever since.”

Andrew waited for him to continue.

“I didn’t… He worked with the Moriyamas,” Neil admitted. “I didn’t know everything about them, not most of it. When I first saw Kevin here, I thought he might recognize me. I met him and Riko once, as a kid, right before we ran. But he didn’t, recognize me, so I… I decided I’d lay low here for a while.” He took a shaky breath. “Anyway, you deserved to know. You’re watching Kevin’s back and if Riko recognizes me, it’s bad for both of us.”

Andrew watched his face while he talked, searching for lies or omissions.

“That’s twice in one day,” Andrew mused. Twice in one day he’d been caught unaware. “Neil, the man of many faces and twice as many stories. Do you even have a real name?”

Neil shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Neil’s who I am now. Besides, when I leave here it’ll have to change. It’s dangerous staying in one place so long. Stupid.”

“So what,” Andrew said, “now you play rabbit and scurry away? I thought you were a fox, Neil.”

“A fox or a Fox?” Neil asked softly.

“Both.”

Neil sighed, looking frustrated. “I don’t – I don’t _want_ to leave, okay? This place, it’s a fucking fairytale. Sooner or later reality’s going to come crashing back in. It already did a little tonight. But I’m not going to be the cause of it. I won’t.”

“No one asked you to be a martyr,” Andrew said.

“I’m not a martyr,” Neil retorted.

“No,” Andrew agreed. “Just an idiot.”

Neil rolled his eyes and turned to look at him. “If you’re so smart, then tell me what I should do? What’s a better option?”

“Stay,” Andrew said. The word nearly stuck in his throat even as it barreled out of him. What was he doing?

“I can’t,” Neil said, staring at him. “I just told you why.”

“I heard you. And it doesn’t matter. For once in your life, choose not to run. Choose to fight. Give me your back and stay here.”

“I…” Neil blinked, looked away and then back, frowning. “I’m not making some stupid deal with you like you did with Kevin. I’m not going to cower away and drink myself into a stupor while you fight my battles for me. I’m not – ”

“Neil,” Andrew leaned forward and placed a finger a hairsbreadth from Neil’s lips. “Shup up.”

Neil’s mouth curved into a small grin, breath ghosting over Andrew’s fingertips. Andrew shivered.

“No more lies,” Andrew said. “You’re not helping anyone with this need-to-know bullshit.”

“Fine,” Neil said. “I’ll try, alright? It’s a little…”

“Compulsive?” Andrew supplied.

Neil scowled. “Difficult. Lies have kept me alive.”

“And the truth shall set you free.”

Neil’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”

Andrew settled back against the couch and clicked the remote, letting a new wave of over-enthusiastic amateur bakers occupy his mind for the next couple hours.

Neil wandered to his own apartment to sleep shortly before 1 in the morning. Andrew moved methodically through his nighttime routine, still a little numb from the day’s events. Before climbing into bed, he washed the dishes, showered, brushed his teeth, and dressed in soft, clean sweats.

With the lights out and only the lulling sound of a desk fan making noise, Andrew traced his fingertips over his lips and closed his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

It started with a punch, of all things. The sudden heat and pressure bursting across his cheek, almost as shocking as the cold cement now pressing against his back. A different kind of heat filled him now, a much different kind of pressure. A good heat, Neal thought, a good pressure, as he scraped his fingernails lightly over rough stone, as his mind simultaneously exploded in a thousand different directions and narrowed down to a single point of focus, as he –

Maybe he should back up a bit.

*******

_A few days earlier_

They decided to go to Eden’s Twilight for Halloween. More accurately, Andrew and Kevin decided and the rest of them followed along. Neil had an open invite to Matt and Dan’s house-party as well (Abby would be out of town, and she’d lent them the use of her house with the stipulation that nobody attending could drive afterward). It sounded like way too many people to deal with in a single evening, and Neil had somehow let himself get talked into both.

Since sharing more truths with Andrew, Neil felt himself slipping into an almost liminal state. The first eighteen years of his life were spent in a constant, vigilant state, terrified, looking up from the ground at his father’s looming face, looking over his shoulder, looking back, always looking back. Up to that point, Neil had avoided lasting human connections at all cost. This, all of this, was something new.

After fleeing from his father, a much younger Neil wondered if everyone outside of his father’s circle would be equally awful. He expected it, really. It would forever shake his fragile, sheltered world to learn that wasn’t true.

Even just a few weeks after leaving, Neil found himself sitting next to a boy a little younger than himself at a diner counter. The boy, perhaps curious about Neil and his sideways, flinching glances, or perhaps just friendly with everyone, offered Neil a few pages of notebook paper and his colored pencils. He told Neil whatever he drew would get added to the overflowing collection of hand-drawn pictures scattered across the diner lobby, mementos of travelers, overwrought toddlers, and sneakily lewd teenagers from over many years. Neil accepted a single sheet of paper and a dark blue pencil, sketching tiny stick figure animals until his mother returned from the bathroom and yanked on his arm for him to follow. Not yet sneaky enough to hide anything from his mother, she snatched the paper and pencil from his hands once they stepped outside. She ripped the paper into tiny pieces, snapped the pencil in half, and threw them both down a sewer grate. Neil remembered the feel of her nails biting into his flesh as she angrily ordered him to never accept something from a stranger again.

“Watch it,” Seth snapped. He barely avoided running into Neil as he hefted two, full garbage bags over the side of a dumpster. Neil didn’t bother apologizing, as he hadn’t actually been in the way. He emptied his own bag, stuck a rake over his shoulder, and went back to work.

Neil had never imagined himself much of a handyman, but it turned out years on the run had taught him a variety of useful, if somewhat random skills. He didn’t know his actual title, just that he reported to a thin, grumpy fellow who spent the majority of his time staring at a computer screen and scowling, and whose office was situated adjacent to the park. Neil spent most days bouncing from job to job, small things like tightening a leaky pipe underneath a sink, adding a new layer of paint to a fence, or moving furniture into a new space. It was tiring, physical work and Neil didn’t mind it.

That day he and Seth were tasked with leaf cleanup. The trees had decided to finally take note of the late October date and seemingly overnight, the streets, sidewalks, and buildings were buried in a festive collection of orange, red, and yellow leaves. It was actually quite pretty.

Neil mostly worked by himself, another reason he liked the job. When not by himself, he most often worked with Seth, whose sunny disposition hadn’t grown any sunnier the longer they partnered up. For someone with a relatively easy job, a beautiful (or so others said) girlfriend, and a pretty close group of friends, Seth just seemed perpetually pissed off. Neal bit back his annoyance and sometimes literally bit his tongue. Neil Josten made a point of keeping his head down and his mouth shut. Well, mostly. It didn’t always work out that way.

The night of Halloween, Neil and Seth finished up early and parted ways without a goodbye. Neil figured he’d see his coworker at Abby’s later whether he wanted to or not – that didn’t mean he had to waste time being polite when he didn’t mean it.

After showering, Neil rifled through his bag for clothes and stopped short when a small pink sticky note peeked out from his notebook. It read ‘_final - 11_. Neil blinked. That had to be wrong. He fished out his notebook and flipped to the page where he kept a record of his injection dates, the injections that _still_ had everyone convinced of his beta status. Highly illegal and highly expensive, Neil also had a coded list of suppliers. Some were crossed out – no longer reliable or no longer in business. Others he’d never dealt with before. The nearest to Palmetto was in D.C.

Neil’s heart slammed against his ribs. How could he have been so stupid? He’d miscounted somehow, thought he had at least another month until needing to refill his supply. The final, tiny clear vial tucked into the lining of his duffel would be enough for November, the eleventh month. After that, without another dose, his natural hormones would resurge with a vengeance. There would be no more hiding what he was.

Neil forced himself to take a breath and neatly pack everything away. He brushed his fingers over the vial, comforted his its presence, and started to think about what to do. He’d never planned to stay in Palmetto that long – had never planned to _stay_, period. Only he had stayed, had given Andrew his word not to run. Shit.

A crazy, unbidden thought crossed his mind. What if he didn’t refill the supply? What if others knew he was an omega? It was different for omegas in Palmetto. _Andrew_ was different… Neil felt a little sick even considering it. All his mother’s warnings, all her awful stories and awful truths sounded in his ears and he ended up opening a window just to hear something else.

By the time he reached Abby’s that evening and knocked lightly on the door, Neil had pushed his distress aside. Not to say it was gone, only he couldn’t think about that and deal with parties and drinking and too many people. Allison opened the door. She was dressed in a skin-tight white outfit that Neil supposed was meant to be a nurse, complete with bright red stilettos, fishnet stockings, and enough cleavage to knock someone on their ass. If Neil cared about such things, he might have appreciated it.

“What are you supposed to be?” Allison asked, eyeing him up and down. “Are those your normal clothes?”

“Yes,” Neal said.

Allison sighed. “Of course they are. Come on.” She grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him inside. “I’ve got clothes for you.”

“What? Why would you have clothes for me?” Neil protested as she led him upstairs. “Um, I’m not sure we’re the same size.”

Allison gave him a look. “Obviously, darling. You wearing my clothes would be like hanging a dress on a bean pole.”

Neil wasn’t sure whether to be offended.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I didn’t pick them out, but I have to say I approve, now that I see what you’re wearing. One of the monsters dropped them off earlier.”

“Andrew?”

Allison smirked slightly. “No, the chattering one.”

“Nicky,” Neil supplied, even as he wondered why the hell Nicky would be giving him clothes.

“Yes, yes, that one. I hear you’re clubbing later. They probably didn’t want to get kicked out because you dress like a hobo.”

Okay, now he was offended. “I do not dress like a hobo.”

Allison shrugged lightly. “Whatever you say. Now here, go get pretty. Everyone is downstairs in the living room when you’re done.”

Equal parts annoyed and baffled, Neil took the clothes and locked himself in the bathroom to change. He stared at himself in the mirror for awhile once finishing. The outfit was mostly black. Black skinny jeans, black combat boots, and a tight black shirt that hugged his skin much tighter than anything Neil owned. The shirt had a faint, glimmering sheen of orange when it hit the light and that made sense when Neil pulled out the final item in the bag: a set of small, tufted fox ears. At least now he knew who’d picked out the outfit.

Shaking his head, Neil donned the fox ears, stuffed his regular clothes in the bag, and joined the others downstairs.

He received an immediate round of cat-calls from Dan and Allison and wanted to crawl back upstairs. Matt grinned and thumped him on the back.

“A Fox as a fox!” he said, laughing at his own joke.

Aside from the usual crowd, several other less familiar faces joined the party over the next couple hours. Neil kept to a corner, nursing a soda and continuously checking the time. Andrew was picking him up at nine-thirty.

As the booze flowed freely, so did the conversation. Neil didn’t mind not talking – preferred it actually – until he found himself surrounded by Matt, Dan, Allison, and a couple people he didn’t bother learning the names of.

“You have no idea how crazy it was to see one of them walking out of Allison’s place,” Matt was saying, gesturing emphatically. “I thought, this is it, this is when the monsters finally kill one of us.”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Allison said. “I’m sure they’ve killed plenty of people that we don’t even know about.”

Matt barked out a surprised laugh and Dan smiled.

“Is it because they’re omegas?”

Silence. All eyes focused on Neil.

“Neil, come on,” Matt said, “you know that’s not – ”

“I don’t know actually,” Neil said. “Their group has three omegas. Yours has none. You obviously hate them. What do you think that looks like?”

Matt opened and closed his mouth while Dan looked stricken. Allison just rolled her eyes.

“We don’t hate them,” Dan insisted, sitting forward. “They’re part of our team. Part of this pack. What Andrew pulled off back in Breckenridge, that was amazing.”

“Bad-ass as hell,” Matt agreed. “Especially for an omega.”

“Because omegas are supposed to be weak and incapable otherwise?” Neil retorted. “Maybe you don’t recognize what inherent bias looks like, but it’s still bias.”

The others protested as Neil stood and quickly made his way outside. He inhaled the cool night air deeply and leaned back against the porch railing. When the door opened and closed behind him, he steeled himself for another confrontation. Instead, Renee walked up and settled across from him, watching Neil with a calm expression.

“Andrew wouldn’t appreciate you standing up for him like that,” she said.

Neil shrugged, still angry. “I don’t care.”

“It’s nice that you do, though.”

“I don’t get how the two of you are friends,” Neil said. “Obviously none of the others do either.”

It was Renee’s turn to shrug. “Andrew and I understand each other. We may have different beliefs about how to do some things, but I think it’s the why that’s more important.”

Neil had to ask. “And what’s Andrew’s why?”

Renee smiled. “You should probably ask him.”

*******

A couple hours later Neil sat in a crowded booth and watched with something akin to fascination as the partygoers at Eden’s Twilight celebrated Halloween. He’d never seen such elaborate costumes before – didn’t really see the point, honestly. It made his own black attire and fox ears tame by comparison. Nicky had been delighted by Neil’s outfit and spent half the car-ride trying to add black eyeliner to the mix. Neil flatly refused.

The others had dressed up too. Aaron wore a grim reaper’s robe and carried a plastic scythe, Kevin wore a suit and top hat and insisted it was historically accurate, and Nicky sported a sheer, glimmering top, green tights, and an obnoxiously large pair of faery wings. He laughed in delight when Neil didn’t immediately understand why. Andrew, on the other hand, wore close to usual black attire, only his t-shirt had large white block letters stamped across the front that read _ASSHOLE_.

“I thought we were supposed to be in costume,” Neil said, when he saw. Andrew ignored him.

Neil accompanied Andrew to the bar to get drinks. Unlike Nashville, Andrew didn’t insist on closed-tabbed beers, but he did wait for a particular bartender before ordering. The bartender, whose name was Roland, smiled largely when he saw Andrew’s shirt.

“I’m going to keep my guts intact and not say anything about that,” Roland said, still grinning as he filled their tray with a variety of complicated mixed drinks and shots.

“Finally learning,” Andrew said. He took the drinks and shouldered his way back through the crowd. Neil noticed he left a pretty sizeable tip.

Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin drank like they had a race to win. Andrew downed a few shots but slowed down after that, sipping slowly at a drink while watching the crowd. After a while, Nicky and Aaron got up to dance (Neil also refused that invitation), leaving the three of them sitting quietly together.

“Why didn’t Robin come?” Neil asked, at one point realizing the quiet girl wasn’t there. He’d grown used to her fading into the background – suspected she liked it that way – and had barely noticed her absence until now.

“Robin doesn’t do crowds,” Andrew replied.

“Neither do I,” Neil said.

“And yet, here you are.”

Neil had nothing to say to that, so he didn’t.

Andrew went for the next round of drinks on his own after waving off Neil’s offer to help. He’d only been gone around ten minutes when a slight commotion drew Neil’s attention. For a moment, he flashed back to Crush Lounge and was sure Nicky would be on the ground, kicked and bloody. This commotion turned out to bad in a very different way.

Someone was moving toward them. Neil could tell because the crowd swarmed around whoever it was, buzzing excitedly even in the cacophony of the club. Kevin squinted blearily at the crowd, frowned, then his face lost all trace of color.

From several feet away, Riko smiled at him.

Adrenalin dumped into Neil’s veins. Fight or flight. Instinct told him to run, to get the hell out of there before Riko saw his face and recognized who looked back at him. Neil glanced at Kevin. Any trace of an expression had vanished, but the pure terror in his eyes was impossible to miss. Andrew wasn’t back yet, wouldn’t be for some time with how long the lines were, and too far away to take notice of what was going on. Neil swallowed, curled his fingers hard around his soda, and watched Riko approach.

“So good to see you, Kevin,” Riko greeted, sliding into the booth uninvited. Beside the booth stood Jean Moreau. Neil recognized him by the number three tattooed on his cheek. People crowded around, cell phones out, practically drooling with excitement at seeing Riko and Kevin reunited.

“I’ve missed you,” Riko said, and pulled Kevin into a brief hug. Neil couldn’t hear what he whispered in Kevin’s ear, but he could see the shudder move through his frame.

The crowd went nuts, cheering and clapping excitedly. Cameras clicked; some people were probably filming.

“I was just thinking about that conversation we had the other day, Kevin.” Riko spoke loudly enough for those in the immediate vicinity to hear. “About you coming back to Evermore. It’s been a rough year for both of us, but I agree, I think it’s the right time for you to come home.”

Kevin’s breath quickened and his gaze skittered to his lap. “Riko, I’m – ”

“After all,” Riko continued, “it must be difficult for you in Palmetto. I’m sure going there seemed like the best choice at the time, given your embarrassment over your injury. It’s nothing – ”

“A choice,” Neil said. “You mean choosing his pack, right? Oh wait, he didn’t do that the first time around. When he was sold to you.”

Several people murmured in surprise and shock. Riko’s gaze slid to Neil for the first time, assessing and smiling slightly.

“What right do you have discussing Kevin’s past?” Riko asked. He remained calm since he still had an audience. “You know nothing of bidding, and nothing about Kevin. Kindly stay out of our business.”

“Oh, I know plenty about Kevin,” Neil said. He allowed a tiny bit of his father’s smile to slip free. “I know he was a child when you bought him, that he had no say in the matter. How could he? And then you stamped a tattoo on his cheek, and declared he’d never be better than you. Seems a little preemptive, right? It must be difficult, being that insecure.”

Riko’s eyes hardened even as the smile stayed put. “A child like you shouldn’t speak of what he does not understand. Bidding is a time-honored, celebrated process. Kevin’s mother would have been honored that he gained a place with the Evermore pack.”

Neil laughed. “Honored. Right. Then why didn’t she give him to you when she was still alive?”

The crowd grew restless, murmuring and pointing. They weren’t used to anyone speaking to Riko like that.

Riko’s smile finally faded a bit. “Once again, Kevin, you’ll let someone else speak for you. Has our relationship really soured that badly? Will you allow this boy to speak about your mother like that? About you?”

Kevin shook his head, once again looking at his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Kevin has no intention of leaving the Palmetto pack,” Neil said, raising his voice slightly, making sure everyone heard. “He’s there of his own free will – I know, free will is a foreign concept to you, Riko. Don’t worry, I’m sure someone can explain. And besides, Kevin is an alpha and as the law states, only he can decide whether to change packs.”

In his peripheral vision, Neil saw Aaron and Nicky standing in the crowd, holding Andrew back. Andrew looked murderous, Aaron alarmed, and Nicky impressed.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Riko said. He leaned forward slightly, eyeing Neil keenly. “Your name?”

“Neil Josten. I’d offer to shake your hand, but I have no interest in touching someone like you.”

Riko smiled tightly. “Kevin, we’ll talk soon.”

He left, taking Jean and most of the nosy onlookers with him.

“Holy shit, dude,” Nicky exclaimed the moment he reached the table. “Where did that come from?”

“We’re going,” Andrew said. “Now.”

Assisted by a couple employees, their group made it out the back door, not wanting to risk running into Riko and his accolades. The cold air felt good after the stifling, swampy heat of the club. Neil took a deep breath, willing his still pounding heart to slow.

They crowded into Andrew’s car and drove to the hotel. They always stayed in the same place, Neil had learned, a deceptively nice hotel just a couple miles from the club. Their room had two bedrooms and an ensuite kitchen and living room that looked out over a swimming pool.

Neil had just gotten out of the car when Kevin punched him. Neil grunted in surprise, staggering back a step. He raised a hand to his face, felt the heat blooming across his skin.

“You motherfucker,” Kevin seethed. “Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut? Goading him like that is… it’s. Fuck!” He stumbled and grabbed at his hair, breathing hard.

“Nicky, take him inside. Cabinets are stocked.” Andrew waited for them to follow his directions before turning to Neil.

“You too?” Neil said. He wiped blood from his nose.

“Not here.”

Andrew led him around the side of the building, out of view of the balconies or the parking lot. He immediately crowded Neil against the wall, not touching but boxing him in with hands planted on either side of his head.

“Is this where you kill me?” Neil asked.

Andrew regarded him for a moment. “I can’t decide if you’re still lying to me or if you’re really that stupid.”

“I told you I wouldn’t roll over and play dead.” Neal stared back. “At least I didn’t stab him. People might have noticed.”

“They still will. You called Riko out in public. Humiliated him. What do you think that does for your chances of survival?”

“Fuck the public, and fuck Riko. Besides,” Neil continued, “you’re the one who told me to stay. This is me staying. Don’t get all pissy that you don’t like how I’m doing it.”

“I hate you,” Andrew said. And then he kissed him.

All thoughts fled Neil’s mind as Andrew’s chapped lips pressed hard against his own. Oh, he thought. _Oh_.

Andrew pulled back after a moment, eyes flickering between Neil’s eyes and his lips.

“You don’t want this,” he said. He started to move back. Neil grabbed the hem of Andrew’s coat and tugged him forward.

“Don’t tell me what I want.”

Andrew just stared at him with some unnamable emotion.

“My turn,” he said softly. He was close enough to breathe Neil’s air. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

There were so many possible answers to that question. Even more questions Neil was dying to ask. But, for that moment, crowded against a cold brick wall with the taste of cigarettes and whisky on his lips, Neil settled on a simpler answer.

“Hell yeah,” Neil breathed.

And so he did. 


	10. Chapter 10

Andrew kissed Neil with a ferocity that surprised them both. Their lips collided, somewhere between a dance and a battle of hard-won presses and soft retreats, hot breath passing between them, tiny white clouds puffing into the air on its escape. Neil made a quiet noise against his mouth, shifting minutely against the bricks as he lifted his hands and grasped Andrew’s forearms. His touch was light, but it still made tiny shivers that had nothing to do with pleasure race through Andrew’s body. He pulled back, keeping his hands pressed to the wall beside Neil’s head.

Neil made another noise, this time in protest, as he chased Andrew’s lips. He frowned as he opened his eyes and realized something had changed.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked, sounding every bit as unhinged as Andrew felt. 

Andrew hesitated, suddenly unsure how to word it. It was a simple request, had always been simple before. Finally, he settled on, “I don’t like to be touched.”

Neil simply nodded, dropping his hands and pressing them obediently against the wall. His eyes held a dozen questions, none of which he voiced. It infuriated Andrew that Neil would comply so easily, so unquestioningly. Andrew didn’t deserve that level of trust.

“Stop that,” Andrew said.

“Stop what?” Neil asked.

Andrew kissed him again. Neil returned his kisses with all the fervent enthusiasm of the inexperienced. He really had no idea what he was doing. Andrew really didn’t care.

Neil pulled back the next time, leaned his head back against the wall with heavy eyes. A blossoming bruise across his cheek was just visible in the moonlight.

“I’ve never… Well, that’s not true, I have. But it really didn’t count. I don’t think so, at least. I don’t – ” Neil snapped his mouth shut, apparently catching onto the fact that he was babbling. “It wasn’t like this,” he finished in a low voice.

“This is nothing,” Andrew replied automatically.

Neil cocked his head slightly. “Then apparently I’m a fan of nothing.”

“Your mouth is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Maybe you should consider not talking.” Andrew leaned in, tilting his head back ever so slightly, gaze darting to Neil’s lips.

“Maybe you should consider making me,” Neil challenged.

Andrew did like a challenge.

Sometime later – minutes? hours? weeks? – they pulled apart completely and made their way inside. Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron were sprawled in the living room watching some overzealous action flick on tv. Kevin clung to a bottle of some type and neither he nor Aaron glanced up as Andrew and Neil walked in. Nicky on the other hand looked up, throwing a suspicious glance between the two of them.

“Neil’s still alive and has all his limbs attached,” Nicky said. “That’s surprising. What gives?”

Neil’s lips were slightly swollen, hair askew where Andrew had carded his fingers through it. He raised his eyebrows, and Andrew realized he’d been caught staring.

“I’m going to bed,” Andrew said.

He escaped into one of the bedrooms, shutting and locking the door behind him. He leaned back against it and waited for his heart to stop pounding.

*******

On the way back to Palmetto the next day they stopped at a shopping mall. Andrew pulled Kevin along into an electronics store, picking him up a new phone and grabbing an additional one for Neil. He didn’t care if Neil insisted he’d never use it. The idiot had painted a target on his back last night – or maybe he’d just highlighted the existing one. Either way, he needed some way of getting in touch.

Andrew perched on the side of food-court fountain and quickly programmed various contacts into Neil’s phone. His own, David’s, even Bee’s. He didn’t think Neil had ever met Bee. Even so, seeing as he clearly had issues, having a therapist on quick dial wasn’t a bad idea.

The others returned from their various perusals. Neil rolled his eyes when Andrew tossed him his gift, frowning slightly as he scrolled over the contacts list. He shot Andrew an exasperated look but didn’t say anything about it.

“Okay, something is weird with you two,” Nicky complained. “First Andrew doesn’t kill him, then he gets _presents_? Andrew, when’s the last time you gave _me_ a present?”

“Why would I give you a present?” Andrew asked.

Nicky held a hand over his heart and batted his eyes. “Because you love me?”

Andrew stared him down until he changed the subject.

They arrived home early afternoon. Nicky and Aaron disappeared to their shared apartment, Nicky complaining about lack of sleep, Aaron probably to meet up with his not so secret girlfriend. Kevin hung back in the hall.

“You really don’t understand what you’ve done,” he told Neil, as soon as the others had left. “Getting on Riko’s bad side is…” He shuddered. “It’s not recommended.”

Neil’s look was unimpressed. “He has a good side?”

Kevin frowned, throwing a glance to Andrew. Andrew crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “This is not a joke!”

“Who’s joking?” Neil said. “Besides, aren’t you the one who’s literally pulling the rug out from under his feet? Sounded like he’s more than aware of your side-job. That doesn’t worry you?”

“Of course it fucking worries me,” Kevin ground out, flushing. “I grew up there, I know exactly what he’s capable of. I’m not so naive to think he hasn’t figured it out.”

“Great, then what’s the problem?” Neil asked.

“The problem,” Andrew piped in, “is if Riko can’t kill the fly, he’ll settle for tearing its wings off, one by one. Who do you think are the wings in this scenario?”

Neil scowled. “Riko doesn’t scare me.”

Kevin threw up his hands in exasperation and walked away, muttering under his breath.

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew told Neil.

“Yeah, we’ve established that,” Neil replied, irritated. “What do you think – wait, Andrew, where are going?”

Andrew had started down the hallway toward the stairs. He didn’t wait to see if Neil followed because he already knew he would.

“Riko didn’t recognize me,” Neil said, once they’d stepped outside onto the back patio. “What could he possibly do?”

“For someone who goes out of their way to hide his scars, I’d think you could answer that question for yourself.”

Neil froze, shock warring with disbelief on his face. “What?” he asked faintly.

Andrew turned around, pointing a finger at Neil’s chest. “You seem to forget who pulled your ass out of a river, once upon a time.”

“You… looked?” Neil asked.

“I’m not a voyeur,” Andrew said. “But I can’t help if wet clothing moves around when one is being dragged over rocks. Your shirt rode up.”

He remembered vividly, the shocking display of scars crisscrossing Neil’s torso. His shirt had really only ridden up about six inches. It was enough.

As if those scars were on display now, Neil crossed his arms over his stomach and starred at the ground, breaths coming slightly too fast.

“You didn’t ask,” Neil said. “You could’ve used one of your questions and asked.”

“I could have,” Andrew agreed slowly. “But that’s a different kind of question. I don’t take things that aren’t mine to take.”

Neil blinked, still staring at the ground. “I know you don’t.” Gradually, he raised his eyes. “Thank you, for not asking.” Then, “what do you think Riko will do?”

“He’ll find out everything about you.”

Neil huffed out a humorless laugh. “There’s not much to find. Neil Josten’s paper trail is pretty thin until about a year ago.”

Andrew regarded him for a moment. “Then he’ll find out who came before Neil Josten.”

“Not a chance,” Neil said, shaking his head. “I’ve been forging my identity since I was ten. It’s not like I picked this one out of a crackerjack box. He’ll never figure it out.”

“Then he’ll retaliate in some other way,” Andrew pressed. “I told you: wings.”

Neil shook his head again. “But why now? If we,” he gestured around, “are such a thorn in his side, why hasn’t he retaliated before now? Yeah, I pissed him off, I get that. In the grand scheme of things, that’s a pretty juvenile and insignificant reason to do whatever it is you and Kevin think he’s going to. It doesn’t make sense.”

“A lot of things don’t make sense.”

“You don’t make sense,” Neil continued, stepping forward, a spark in his eye.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “This is news to no one.”

“Saving me, telling me to run, telling me to stay.” He took another step closer. “Telling me you hate me. Kissing me…”

They were nearly chest to chest. Andrew refused to budge, simply raising his head a bit to maintain eye contact given Neil’s slightly taller height.

“Do the others still think you’re the quiet one?” Andrew asked. “They’re in for a rude surprise.”

“Hey Andrew,” Neil said. “I want to kiss you again. Yes or no?”

“Are you using your turn? It’s a bit of a waste.”

Neil smiled slightly. “Agree to disagree. Yes or no, Andrew?”

Andrew stubbornly held out for a good thirty seconds. “_Yes_,” he ground out.

While still frantic, the kiss was softer that time, a touch more hesitant in the light of day. Andrew fisted his hands in Neil’s hair, not pulling, just holding. Neil sighed against his lips and Andrew wondered what it would be like to have the sensation returned. Maybe Neil’s touches would be alright, maybe –

Andrew pulled back abruptly, pushing Neil away with a hand to his chest.

“You don’t swing,” Andrew said. “I’m the one who doesn’t make sense?”

“I still don’t,” Neil replied, looking a bit confused. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like… this.”

Andrew stared at him while a war raged in his head.

“I didn’t know that you liked me,” Neil said.

“90% of the time I hate you.”

The corner of Neil’s mouth curled up. “I’ve had worse odds.”

Andrew turned away. He shook a cigarette out of his pack and lit it, drawing nicotine into his lungs in a futile attempt to calm his thoughts. He could feel Neil’s gaze boring into his face from the side.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“How am I supposed to look at you?” Neil asked. He sounded amused.

“Easy,” Andrew said, “you’re not.”

“Well,” Neil said, “in the past twelve hours you’ve found a way to both stop me from talking and keep my eyes closed at the same time. Not my fault if you haven’t been paying attention.”

Andrew took a drag on his cigarette. “You’re not as amusing as you think you are.”

“You seem to think otherwise,” Neil reminded him. He stepped closer, snatching the cigarette from between Andrew’s fingers and lifting it to his own mouth.

“You don’t smoke,” Andrew said.

Neil hummed in agreement, not actually doing anything except breathing in the gently curling smoke. Ash slowly accumulated on the tip as it burned.

“I kissed a girl a few years ago,” Neil said a little while later. “I wasn’t really attracted to her. Mostly just curious. When my mom found out she was furious.” He trailed off, clearly lost in the memory. “Anyway, by the time she was done, I didn’t have to think twice about doing that again.”

Andrew took the cigarette back, wondering what part Neil’s mother had played in giving him those scars.

“So this is just curiosity?” Andrew asked.

Neil shook his head. “That’s not what I said. I’m not – the whole attraction thing, whatever, it’s just not on my radar.” He paused. “You are on my radar.”

Andrew finally slid him a glance. He didn’t understand exactly, but he could sense it was the truth just the same.

“So yeah,” Neil continued. “I wanted you to kiss me last night. And I wanted to again today. But only if you want to. I’ll only kiss you if you want me to.”

Neil didn’t understand the impact of his words. He couldn’t. Andrew had to look away for a minute, sorting through the convoluted mess of emotions racing through him. Neil made it sound so simple. He supposed it was. These things had never been simple for Andrew though, so he stared blankly ahead and didn’t immediately respond.

“I’ve got to get to work,” Neil said. He hesitated, watching Andrew. “Don’t smoke the whole pack.” And then he left.

Andrew didn’t smoke the whole pack only because it was already half empty. He stayed until he could snub the last butt out under his toe, staring into the gently waving trees.

*******

Neil woke slowly. At first, he didn’t understand what was happening. Something was blaring, horrible loud noises that made his ears ring. He struggled to sit up, coughing hard, unable to draw a proper breath. Finally consciousness returned fully, and he had to blink through stinging, blurry eyes to understand what he was seeing.

Smoke. Thick, billowing smoke, seeping under his door, pushing into every corner of the room. The fire alarm screamed overhead. In the hallway, he could hear more screams, people shouting, running, pounding on doors. Someone was pounding on his door.

Neil scrambled out of bed and dropped to the floor, blindly feeling his way to the dresser. He yanked open the bottom door, grabbing his duffel bag and heaving it over his shoulder. He didn’t have time for anything else, not even his shoes. Neil knew the dangers of smoke inhalation. Judging by the harsh, burning feeling in his throat, he’d woken up just in time.

He stayed low, drawing in tiny, shallow breaths until his fingers met hard wood. He lightly tapped the handle, feeling for heat, before wrapping his fingers around it and pulling it open. The hallway was thick with smoke. He still couldn’t see any flames so it must have started on a lower floor.

Someone nearly barreled straight into him. Andrew. Relief flooded through Neil. Until he caught site of Andrew’s eyes – they were wide and frantic.

“Where’s Andrew?” Aaron yelled. “Did he already get out? Kevin and Nicky are outside but I didn’t see him!”

Neil shook his head harshly and pushed at Aaron. “Get out! Go! I’ll find him.”

“Fuck you!” Aaron pushed him back. “I’m not leaving without my brother.”

Since Neil’s arrival in Palmetto, the twins had exchanged barely three words in his presence. Neil knew they had an odd history, though he’d stopped Nicky from telling him too much about it. It wouldn’t surprise Neil to see Andrew risk himself for Aaron, but he’d certainly never expected it to happen the other way around.

Neil didn’t waste time arguing. He groped his way down the hall, hanging onto the wall and counting doors since he could barely see. The smoke was getting worse. When he reached Andrew’s door, he prepared himself to kick the door in, only to realize it was slightly ajar.

Aaron rushed in ahead of him, calling Andrew’s name. Neil followed on his heels. They were greeted by an empty apartment.

“He must have made it outside,” Neil called, pausing to cough harshly. “We need to get the fuck out of here!”

For once, Aaron didn’t argue.

They made it to the stairwell and down one flight of stairs before a sudden thought jolted Neil to a stop.

“Wait,” he said, grabbing Aaron’s coat. Aaron shrugged him off.

“Where’s Robin’s apartment?” Neil asked. He’d never thought to ask before and suddenly it seemed like the most important question in the world.

“Basement,” Aaron answered quickly. “Right next to Seth’s.” The color drained from his face. “I think the fire started in the basement.”

Neil flew down the stairs, ignoring Aaron’s alarmed shouts for him to wait. He could already feel the heat before throwing open the stairwell door. His palm blistered on the handle. He didn’t care.

The basement was ablaze. Neil crouched to the floor, covering his nose with an elbow, squinting hard through the flames.

“Andrew!” he yelled. Or tried to. He could barely breathe and ended up coughing hard.

Someone made a noise and Neil’s pulse spiked.

“Andrew!” he tried again. It was then he spotted him. A prone figure sprawled on the ground, halfway in and out of a doorway. Nearby flames licked at his body.

Neil stumbled across the hall, dropping to his knees beside the figure. The face was bloody and burnt, but it wasn’t Andrew. It was Seth.

For a wild moment, Neil considered leaving him. He hadn’t spent years surviving on the run by looking out for others. People got left behind. Casualties happened. In the end, if it meant you survived, it was worth it.

Neil gritted his teeth and grabbed hold of Seth’s arms. He yanked and pulled him across the floor, stumbling every few steps to cough, to readjust his grip on both Seth and his bag. Sweat poured down Neil’s face, stinging his already streaming eyes. His skin felt hot and stretched too tight. Finally, he reached the door. The disarmed fire-exit door Andrew had shown him months ago. Neil pressed his back against the door, ignored the hot metal burning through his clothes, and pulled Seth outside.

He only managed a dozen more steps before collapsing to the ground, coughing and retching. Beside him, Seth was still.

“Back here!” someone called.

Neil didn’t have the strength to look up. Suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, under his arms, hoisting him into the air. Neil struggled weakly. It was hard to concentrate through the greying fog in his mind.

He must have passed out briefly, because he woke up lying on his back, a plastic device pressed over his mouth and someone ordering him to breathe. Neil’s eyes fluttered open, immediately focusing on Matt’s worried face.

“Hey slugger,” Matt said, attempting a smile. “Welcome back.”

“Andrew,” Neil gasped. He lurched upward, tried to sit. “Did you find him? And Robin, he was looking for Robin.” He coughed between phrases, lungs spasming in his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, everyone’s okay.” Matt gently pushed him back down. “Everyone got out. Andrew’s right over there. See?”

He directed Neil’s attention to the right and Neil’s breath caught in his chest for a different reason when he caught sight of a familiar blond head. Andrew sat a short distance away on the curb, soot-streaked and pressing an oxygen mask to his own face. He looked bored. Only Andrew could look bored after escaping from a massive fire.

“What happened?” Neil asked, after breathing for a while. An EMT he didn’t recognize sat at his side, carefully cleaning and bandaging Neil’s blistered hands. He had a few other scrapes and burns, including a deep laceration on his left forearm that he didn’t remember getting.

Matt shook his head. “No one knows. It definitely started downstairs. Renee and Andrew were just getting home and saw the smoke. The alarm hadn’t gone off for some reason, so they did it manually. Thank god.”

He paused, and they watched the still smoldering building across the street. Palmetto had its own volunteer firefighter department and it seemed they’d done a quick and thorough job of controlling the flames. Still, the smoke-damage alone would be extensive.

“Pretty much everyone was outside when Aaron came running out, yelling that your crazy ass was going to the basement.” Matt shook his head wryly. “I thought Andrew was going to dive in right after you. David had to stop him. I’ve never seen someone that close to punching a Pack Alpha before.”

Neil accepted that. “Seth,” he said, suddenly remembering the reason for his worn-out lungs and burned hands. “Is he alive?”

Matt smiled. “Yeah, he’s alive. Thanks to you.”

Neil just nodded. He didn’t think it would go over well to say Seth had been an afterthought. Neil would never have gone back for him it not for Andrew.

As if summoned, Andrew wandered over a short while later. He came to a halt, staring down at Neil. Matt attempted to be nonchalant as he quickly muttered an excuse to leave.

“I believe we already talked about your martyr complex,” Andrew said, by way of greeting.

“I heard you almost decked an alpha so you could go in after me,” Neil shot back. Absurdly, he felt like grinning. Clearly the lack of oxygen had gotten to his brain.

“91%,” Andrew said. Then he walked away.

Neil closed his eyes and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Also, I am a monster and reviews are my nourishment. Please, feed the monster. ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Unable to return home, the Foxes divided up into temporary available lodging. For the first night, that meant Abby’s. Abby had the most room by far, including a large furnished basement, which Andrew laid claim on immediately. He could keep his group together and keep an eye on its various slightly shell-shocked members. Realistically, all of them had some level of prior trauma though, so they handled it better than most people. 

Andrew watched Neil closely after the EMTs declared him sound and moved onto other patients. Neil sat in the grass, oxygen mask pressed to his face, staring at the remains of the fire like he’d get an answer out of its smoldering ruins. He clung to his bag, his stupid ever-present duffel bag that he’d held in a death-grip even barely conscious and hauled to safety in Matt’s arms. It looked a little worse for the wear, as did its owner.

Eventually they piled into various cars and drove to Abby’s. Matt and Dan retreated to one of the guest bedrooms, Renee to another, while the rest of them bedded down in the basement. Nicky and Aaron made several trips up and down the stairs, piling blankets and pillows in their arms until they had enough to make several questionably comfortable pallets on the floor. The basement also had two long couches. Robin curled up on one of them, the top of her head barely sticking out from her comforter. Andrew ordered Neil onto the other one – he still wasn’t breathing well.

“Allison texted,” Nicky announced in a subdued voice. They’d dimmed the lights and lay around the room in various states of almost-sleep. Andrew had claimed a spot against the wall and didn’t open his eyes.

“They’re air-lifting Seth to a burn-unit in Columbia,” Nicky continued. “David already gave the go-ahead for a helicopter to land.”

Palmetto had a small medical clinic downtown, staffed by a modest number of nurses, a few medical assistants, and only two full-time doctors. They dealt with a lot, but they were in no way equipped to handle emergent injuries like Seth’s.

“Is that safe?” Kevin asked, less quietly. “Letting strangers land a helicopter here?”

Everyone ignored him. Andrew, however, wondered if he had a point.

Most of them slept in the next day. Only Robin, quiet as a mouse, woke at her usual ungodly hour and disappeared upstairs. Andrew woke to the smallest noises, so he watched her go through blurry eyes before nuzzling back down into his blankets and sleeping a few more hours.

When the sun rose enough to stream in through the half-windows, Nicky and Aaron wandered upstairs for coffee while Kevin didn’t budge. Mornings and Kevin didn’t mix.

Andrew stretched, noting the slight ache in his lungs that made him want to cough. He glanced at Neil, who also hadn’t moved. His breath made a slight rattling sound with each exhale. Still, he sounded miles better than last night. Andrew hated seeing the dark soot that still dusted Neil’s face. He hated seeing the hint of bandaged hands peeking out from under the blankets even more. Mostly, he hated that he hated it.

Annoyed with Neil – with himself? – he padded upstairs and straight to the coffee. He ignored the slight hush that fell over the conversation at the table where Matt, Dan, and Abby sat. He poured himself a cup of coffee, added a not so modest amount of cream and sugar, and was about to walk out when Matt spoke.

“How’s Neil?” Matt asked. He sounded a bit hesitant. The way someone would speak to a wild animal – wary, alert, and expecting a few fingers to get bitten off. Andrew couldn’t find it in himself to be amused, but he did pause and meet Matt’s gaze.

“Breathing,” he replied. Because it was the truth.

Matt blinked. Nodded. Even tried for a slight smile. “That’s good?” It lifted at the end like a question.

“I’d like to check him over when he wakes up,” Abby said. “Can you let him know?”

Andrew nodded once. “I will let him know.”

He found the others in the living room. Nicky and Aaron were playing a game and bickering about the rules. Renee and Robin were curled up on the loveseat, heads close together as they spoke quietly. Andrew perched on the windowsill, wondering idly if he could get away with smoking through the screen before realizing he didn’t have any cigarettes with him. He settled on sipping his coffee and watching the others interact.

He supposed it should bother him, losing the apartments. Even if they were able to move back in, it would be a long time coming and most everything would have to be trashed due to smoke damage. Beds, furniture, belongings. It didn’t really matter though, not to Andrew. After moving from home to home so often as a child, material possessions meant little to him, particular houses, even less. The studio was the first place Andrew had ever considered truly safe, but it wasn’t the four walls or furniture that had made it so. People, Andrew realized, meant much more than place. It wasn’t a comfortable realization.

After draining the remainder of his coffee, Andrew made his way back downstairs with an armful of borrowed clothing. He stunk, and he could think of nothing better than a shower. Kevin passed him on the way up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and looking generally like a zombie.

“He’s been staring at his bag for half an hour,” Kevin grunted at him. “And you say I’m slow in the morning.”

“It’s afternoon,” Andrew pointed out. Kevin grunted again and walked past him.

Neil sat on the couch he’d slept on, still half tangled in the blankets. His bag was on his legs and he cradled something in his bandaged hands, staring blankly.

“The world won’t end if you have to buy a new bag,” Andrew said, coming to a stop in front of him.

Neil clenched his fingers reflexively around whatever he was holding. His eyes flickered up before returning to his lap.

“It broke.” His voice was inflectionless. Flat.

Andrew eyed the fraying bag. “Then get it fixed. Or better yet, don’t.”

“What?” Neil looked up again. “No, I don’t mean… It broke,” he said again, uncurling his fingers enough for Andrew to see what lay in his palms. It was some sort of vial. A medicine vial, maybe. Andrew once had a diabetic foster mother who’s stored her insulin in something similar. As far as Andrew knew, Neil wasn’t diabetic.

“What was it?” Andrew asked bluntly.

Neil clenched his fingers again. Something like panic moved across his face. “Andrew.” It was a single word. It sounded like a plea.

Andrew plucked the cracked vial out of his hands. He brought it close to his face, turning it slowly around to check for markings or a label. It had a tiny serial number but nothing else.

“Tell me what it is,” he repeated.

Neil swallowed and closed his eyes briefly before rattling off some Latin sounding name that meant nothing to Andrew.

Andrew gave him an unimpressed look. “What is it for?”

He didn’t answer for a long time. Andrew could see Neil’s pulse beating a staccato rhythm in his neck, could see the flashes of doubt and panic as he considered and reconsidered his words. Finally, he answered.

“It’s for hormone alteration,” Neil said. “It disguises status.”

Andrew didn’t understand immediately. Once he did, he froze.

“What exactly are you saying, Neil?” Andrew asked in a low, dangerous voice. Anger simmered in his veins.

“I thought about telling you,” Neil said, looking away. “It’s… it’s not something…”

“Neil.” Andrew dug his fingers into Neil’s chin, pulled his head up to look at him. “I’m taking a turn. Are you a beta?”

Neil shook his head, finally meeting his gaze head-on.

Andrew’s heart beat faster. “Then what the fuck are you?”

“Omega,” Neil whispered.

Andrew dropped his hand like he’d been burned and backed up a few steps, staring.

“For the record,” Andrew said – his voice sounded strange to his own ears. “If you’d said ‘alpha’ just now, I would’ve killed you.”

“I know,” Neil replied.

They stared at each other for an eternity. Andrew fought for calm. It didn’t matter. Neil being an omega didn’t matter. It did matter that he’d _lied_ to him. He’d kissed Andrew and lied to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I’m not sorry I lied,” Neil said. “It was a matter of survival. I’ve been disguising my status since I was 14. Since my first heat.”

Neil finally untangled himself from the couch and stood up. Andrew took another step back and something like hurt flashed across Neil’s face. It disappeared quickly behind a blank mask.

“You’re pissed,” Neil said.

“Why would I be pissed?”

“Andrew.”

“You’re just another in a long line of untrue things,” Andrew said. “Being pissed implies I actually give a shit.”

“I know that’s not fucking true,” Neil said, finally edging toward anger. Good, Andrew wanted him angry. “Out of anyone, I thought you would get it. That you wouldn’t judge me for it.”

“You’re the only one who cares that you’re an omega, Neil. I’ve never had the luxury of hiding who I am. Nor would I. Apparently Kevin’s not the only coward I know.”

“Stop it,” Neil snapped. “If you’re going to be angry, at least tell me why. Quit saying shit just so I’ll get mad back.”

Andrew ground his teeth. Since when was he so easy to read?

“Andrew,” Neil tried again. He stepped forward, hesitantly raised his hand.

“_Don’t fucking touch me_.” Andrew moved back again. It felt like giving up ground, but if Neil touched him right now, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Neil froze with his arm still upraised. He slowly lowered it back to his side and gave Andrew a searching look.

“I’m sorry,” Neil said softly.

“Word to the wise,” Andrew said. “Apologies mean nothing if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.”

“Then _tell_ me.”

Andrew cycled through all the possible responses in his head. He could lie. He could walk away. He could tear into Neil with his words and direct the conversation away completely.

“They took things from me,” Andrew said slowly. “Lies, false promises, it’s all the same. I gave you a yes, and you gave me a lie.”

Neil’s mouth opened and closed. Twice.

“I actually preferred it when they told the truth,” Andrew continued, twisting the knife a little deeper – into himself? Into Neil? The words felt like ash in his mouth. “It’s slightly less shitty to get fucked over when you know it’s coming.”

“It was not a lie,” Neil said fiercely. “My status, yes, and I’m _sorry_. But this,” he gestured between the two of them, “this is not a lie, Andrew. I would never…” He trailed off, looking halfway between lost and angry. “I don’t do truth. Half of the time I don’t even know what is true anymore. Until I came here. Until I met _you_. This is the truest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Andrew clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. He could feel himself shaking.

“What you just told me,” Neil said. “I don’t – I won’t ask questions. I know you’ll tell me if you want to. I’m not them. I don’t take what’s not mine to take.”

He should’ve felt annoyed, having his own words parroted back at him. Mostly he just felt numb.

When Andrew still didn’t respond, Neil huffed softly and reached for the hem of his shirt. With a resolved look on his face, he began to tug it off. Andrew started slightly, realizing his intentions.

“What are you doing.” Andrew kept his eyes locked on Neil’s face, refusing to look down.

“Proving to you that I’m not a lie.” Neil peeled his shirt the rest of the way off. He stood there, bare-chested, scars on display in all their awful glory. To say he looked uncomfortable would be an understatement, but he didn’t make a move.

Very slowly, Andrew stepped forward, eyes glued to Neil’s skin. He raised his own hand, waited for Neil’s understanding nod before softly tracing his fingers over rough, scarred flesh. Neil shivered.

“These aren’t from a life on the run,” Andrew said, cataloging each hurt with his eyes and fingertips. He paused on Neil’s shoulder, where he could see the horrifically clear outline of an iron.

“Not all of them,” Neil agreed, shivering again. “My father, he – he didn’t just hurt my mother.”

Andrew wasn’t familiar with these types of scars, but he could guess at most of them. Long raised slashes from a knife, the round puckered hole of a bullet, the smooth, shiny skin of a burn.

“You didn’t win yourself any points last night by adding to this collection,” Andrew finally said. He flattened his palm against Neil’s chest and pressed down slightly.

Neil snorted softly. “That wasn’t exactly the goal.”

“What exactly was the goal then?”

Neil gave him a pointed look.

“Next time don’t listen to my idiot brother. Or yourself, for that matter. If you’re in a building and it’s on fire, run.”

“Not if you’re inside,” Neil said quietly.

Andrew had nothing to say to that. Dropping his hand, he grabbed Neil’s shirt and tossed it to him.

“Get dressed,” Andrew said. “You need to talk to Abby.”

Neil frowned, tugging his shirt back on with a bit of difficulty due to his injured hands. “Why?” Andrew glanced at his hands and Neil rolled his eyes. “After seeing my scars, you think these matter? I’m fine.”

“Fine is relative, and your baseline is fucked. And that’s not the only thing you need to talk to her about.”

Neil stilled. “I’m not talking to her about that.”

“Abby talks, you listen,” Andrew said. On seeing Neil’s baleful look, he added, “whatever it is you’ve been pumping into your body all these years hasn’t done your brain any favors.”

Neil relented, in the end. Andrew didn’t trust Neil to actually tell the truth, so he crowded into Abby’s home office with them. Abby gave him an annoyed look, but Neil just shook his head and said he could stay.

She tended to his hands and arms first, carefully cleaning and rebandaging each new cut and burn. Andrew sat quietly to the side, propped against the wall. He realized belatedly that Abby would have seen Neil’s scars before, as she would’ve done a physical exam before his arrival in Palmetto. He wondered if she’d asked any questions.

“There’s something else,” Neil said hesitantly, when she was done. Stripping off her gloves, Abby paused, a slight look of concern on her face.

Without asking, Andrew passed the small, broken vial to Abby. She frowned, turning it around in her hands the way Andrew had. She stepped to her computer, looking back and forth between the vial and her screen for a few minutes and typing. It didn’t take long for the slight frown between her brows to transform into utter alarm.

“Neil,” she said, fixing him with an intense stare. “Have you been taking this?”

He nodded. He looked ready to bolt.

“For how long?” Abby pressed.

Neil loosed a breath. “Since I was 14.”

Andrew didn’t think Abby’s eyebrows could climb any higher on her forehead.

“Since you were _14_?” she repeated. “Neil, this is a dangerous substance. We’re going to have to do a full panel of blood tests, and – wait. Neil.” Her voice gentled. “Since beta is not your true status, will you tell me what is?”

Neil hesitated, glancing to Andrew who stared back blankly. Abby followed the exchange.

“Ah,” she said in understanding. “Alright. Have you ever had a heat, Neil?”

Neil’s face twisted in discomfort at the line of questioning. “Just once. I started taking this right after.”

“Lucky,” Andrew muttered under his breath. Abby shot him a look and pursed her lips. 

“Taking a drug like this for an extended period of time, suppressing all your heats, I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not going to be comfortable.”

Neil shrugged. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Abby took a breath, let it out before answering. “The heat will come on fast, now that you’ve stopped the injections. And it will be much stronger than normal because your natural hormones have been suppressed for so long. Your body isn’t going to know what to do with itself. You’ll be flooded with urges, with instincts. It will be a very painful few days.”

Neil just nodded, having retreated back into careful blankness.

Abby looked between the two of them. “Andrew knows what it feels like. If you think you’re having symptoms, ask him, and we’ll have you stay here until it passes. I’d like to monitor you as much as possible.”

Neil nodded again.

“Okay, in the meantime, here’s what we’re going to do.”

A litany of tests later and several vials of blood lighter, Abby sent Neil on his way. Granted, that wasn’t very far at the moment. Andrew collected more clothes for Neil, who looked wrung out and half asleep on his feet and shoved him away.

Finally, Andrew got to take his shower.

*******

David showed up for dinner the following night. He’d driven with Allison to Columbia to stay with Seth, who’d apparently stabilized enough to leave the intensive care unit but would need multiple surgeries and skin-grafts to repair all the burns. He had a long road ahead.

“He dropped a goddamn joint,” David said. He sat at the dinner table, rubbing a tired hand across his forehead. “Nodded off and dropped a joint. We’re thinking maybe it was laced with something, because the way he described how he felt didn’t sound like any weed I’ve ever heard of.”

Andrew chewed slowly, listening. “Where did he get it?” he asked after swallowing.

David frowned. “Who the hell knows? His usual dealer, I guess. Allison said he usually restocks his supply somewhere outside of Columbia. From what she told me, he drove out there the day after Halloween, but she doesn’t know who he buys from.”

Andrew exchanged a brief, knowing glance with Kevin, whose face had paled. Neither of them said anything.

The next day they moved to new housing. They had a choice – split up into vacant bedrooms and apartments scattered around the community, or pile into a large, newly renovated home a few miles from downtown. It was originally intended for a large family, or likely, a couple large families to share. It had five bedrooms, a finished basement with an additional two bedrooms, and a small attached mother-in-law unit. Some of them would have to double-up, but there was enough room for everyone.

Andrew was mildly surprised to see Matt and Dan agree to move into the big house. Aaron looked downright annoyed. Nicky looked hesitantly hopeful that he had more people to talk to and promised to mix all their drinks.

Andrew took one of the basement bedrooms. It was dark and slightly confined and very quiet. It also opened up to the back yard and he could already see himself back there smoking. When Kevin tried to claim the other downstairs bedroom, Andrew routed him upstairs and shoved Neil into it instead. Neil gave him a mild look and didn’t argue.

“It’s almost your birthday,” Neil said later that night as they sat outside on the cold brick. The side of his face was illuminated by Andrew’s cigarette, casting him with an unearthly glow.

Andrew propped a hand on his raised knee. “So?”

“What do you want for your birthday?” Neil asked. They could hear the sounds of laughter upstairs. Nicky had broken out the blender, as promised.

Andrew thought about it for a while. He’d never really cared about his birthday before. Eventually, he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

Neil made a disbelieving sound. “A lifetime supply of nicotine? A Nicky-shaped muzzle? There must be something you want.”

“Kinky,” Andrew commented. He spent a moment thinking about the realities of how a muzzle would work. He decided it wouldn’t actually keep Nicky from talking.

“Andrew,” Neil persisted. “There must be something you want.”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” Andrew flicked ash on the ground.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neil’s mouth curve into a smile.

“I told you not to look at me like that,” Andrew said.

Neil cocked his head to the side. “Make me.”

After discarding his unfinished cigarette, Andrew pushed Neil to the ground and did exactly that.


	12. Chapter 12

As it turned out, neither of the twins cared much for their birthday. Neil didn’t find this overly strange, as his birthday had changed as often as his name over the past several years. Before that, he had vague recollections of expansive, glamorous parties thrown in his name, but really just an excuse to gather his father’s associates around him. Neil spent those parties sitting quietly in corners, ducking his gaze frequently and praying he behaved enough to avoid his father’s wrath later on. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes not. He also remembered his mother sneaking into his room at night, every year, holding a store-bought sweet of some type lit with a single candle. She would whisper happy birthday and disappear before she had a chance of getting caught. Sometimes Neil wondered if he’d dreamed those moments.

Nicky, unsurprisingly, thought it was a horrific crime to not celebrate one’s birthday. He had the same argument with the twins every year, and every year, threw them some type of party. According to Nicky, those parties most often consisted of Kevin drinking himself into a puddle while Andrew and Aaron went out of their way to ignore each other, but hey, a party was a party.

“It’s going to be _so_ much better this year,” Nicky insisted. “For one, we’ve got a pre-approved attendee list of people who actually know what fun is, and two, we’ve got you, so you can convince Andrew to quit being such a buzzkill.”

“Why would you think I can do that?” Neil asked.

Nicky gave him a look. “Uh, duh, because he listens to you.”

That was news to Neil. Apparently, the disbelief showed on his face, because Nicky scoffed and punched him lightly on the arm.

“Besides,” Nicky went on, “this is only like, the third year I’ve got to throw those assholes a party. Bigger and better, I say!”

Neil had wondered more about the twins’ discordant history since the fire. He didn’t want to pry though – he certainly wouldn’t want anyone prying into his own history – but he still wondered. He knew they’d grown up apart, unaware of each other in entirety. And he knew a cop had mistakenly identified Aaron as Andrew when they were thirteen and busted that secret wide open. That’s where the story got a little murky. Somehow Aaron ended up in Virginia near Nicky and his parents, while Andrew stayed in California for another four and a half years. Nicky had tried to explain further, but Neil managed to stop him.

Andrew’s words from the other day played over and over in Neil’s brain. _They took things from me. _Neil didn’t know what that meant and did his best not to speculate. He did know that not all scars were physical, and Andrew had offered Neil a glimpse of his scars as surely as Neil has revealed his own. If Andrew wanted to tell him about those four and a half years, or anything prior for that matter, that was his choice to make. Neil wouldn’t allow someone to make that decision for him.

Despite their new lodgings, the pre-existing groups quickly staked out boundaries. There were of course the communal areas, including the kitchen, dining room, and living room on the main floor, but the second-floor den belonged to Matt’s lot while the basement lounge belonged to Andrew’s. Renee, and to some extent Nicky, managed to float between the two. And so, Neil belatedly realized, did he. He didn’t really get it and had stared at Allison in confusion when she’d mentioned it.

“I can’t figure out if you’re actually that oblivious, or you’re just fucking with me,” she had said. “Did no one swaddle you in a blanket and teach you the A B Cs when you were a kid?”

It was very possible they had not. Neil decided not to point that out.

Staying in Columbia for the entirety of Seth’s recovery wasn’t an option, so Allison returned after a couple days and moved into a second-floor bedroom across from Renee. Despite the circumstances, she seemed as prim and polished as she ever did. When she arrived and saw the sparse decorations and second-hand furniture, she immediately got on the phone. In less than twenty-four hours, the house was visited by an interior decorator, received several new furniture deliveries, and had a contractor over to discuss installing a hot-tub on the back deck.

Allison also approved whole-heartedly that they should have a party. Neil suspected it being the twins’ birthday was merely coincidental, but she and Nicky took to it with a comradery that surprised everyone. Inch by inch, they were all clawing their way back to normalcy, even if normal had changed a little bit.

The ever-present dread of his impending heat dampened any hope of Neil enjoying himself the night of the party. He had noticed little things over the past few days – changes in his appetite, sleeping longer than usual. Nothing that screamed alarm though. Nothing to indicate his body was, finally, about to betray him.

He tried not to think of it like that. Heats were simply part of being an omega, the thing that allowed them to reproduce, no matter their gender. Neil, however, had zero desire to reproduce, the very idea made him feel nauseous, and so he dreaded what was about to happen.

“I can’t believe we’re all up here together,” Dan commented, settling against the wall next to Neil. The others were scattered around the common areas. Matt was having a heated but good-natured debate with Kevin about a video game. Andrew and Nicky had two blenders whirring in the kitchen, mixing drinks.

Dan took a sip of her beer. “It’s thanks to you, you know.”

Neil glanced at her in surprise. “What?”

Dan smiled a bit. “I never meant to create a divide. Between any of us.” She paused. “Certainly not between alphas and omegas.”

Neil took a quick breath and forced himself not to react. Realistically, he knew no one would be able to sense his status-change until he went into heat. The lizard part of his brain that governed fight or flight was not in touch with that reality.

“I’m glad you called us out,” Dan said. She took another sip of her beer and spent a moment watching everyone. Somehow Allison had convinced Robin to hand over her raggedy chewed up fingernails and was giving her a home manicure.

Neil shrugged uncomfortably. “I just said what I thought.”

Dan nodded. “I know. It was… It’s not always an easy thing to realize how you come across to others. How your actions affect others. It’s brave of you to call people out on that.”

“Brave or stupid?” Neil said, thinking of Riko.

She smiled ruefully. “Well, maybe best not to do it in front of the whole world next time.”

Neil scoffed. “It was hardly the whole world. And it’s not my fault he brings a posse everywhere he goes.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “A single video posted to social media makes it the whole world, Neil. You have no idea how much heat is being thrown at both Evermore and Palmetto since you said that.”

“I – ” Neil cut himself off. He didn’t know actually. He was surprised Andrew hadn’t given him any grief over it yet.

“It’ll be fine,” Dan said, catching his expression. “It’s just a bunch of political crap. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“What about Evermore?”

This time she scoffed. “You honestly think this is new territory for them? The Shifter Rights Commission had been all over their bidding policies for years. Sadly it’ll take more than angry fan-girls to dent that train.”

Neil knew she was referring to fans of Riko and Kevin. They’d grown up in the public eye, a duo, adored by many. Having them separated and then seemingly at odds with each other would have people in an uproar. Not to mention Kevin’s behavior that night. He’d hardly been the smiling, eloquent alpha they’d come to expect.

“What would it take?” Neil asked.

Dan smiled again. “To take down Evermore? What do you think we've been doing here? But if you figure it out first, let me know, would you?”

The cake was a three-layered monstrosity of chocolate, strawberries, and whipped cream. As far as Neil knew, Andrew did nothing with gusto, but he certainly seemed less bored when he dug into his slice. Neil approached his with hesitation. He didn’t care for sweets at the best of times, and his stomach had felt wobbly all day. He ended up picking out and eating most of the strawberry slices and leaving the rest untouched.

Most of them got drunker as the night progressed. After fending off an increasingly handsy Nicky, Neil made his way to the basement and curled up in bed shortly after midnight. The music pulsed lightly from upstairs and he fell asleep to the sounds of Kevin’s drunken rendition of _Come Fly Away_.

*******

He awoke in agony. Neil gasped into the darkness and clutched his stomach, searching for the wound that was causing such pain. Surely, he’d been shot, maybe stabbed. He found none and after a few minutes of panting into his pillow, the cramp twisting his insides let go.

Neil sucked in a ragged breath and tried not to panic. His heart beat furiously in his chest.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Moving cautiously, Neil sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Everything felt strange, like swimming through jello. And he felt hot even though he was shivering. He pushed to his feet with effort and crept quietly from his room. He just needed some water and ibuprofen. If he could just cool off, he’d be fine.

He took two steps out of his room before realizing someone was in the lounge, curled up on the couch with the tv on mute. Andrew swung his head around, watching Neil silently for a moment before he stood up and disappeared into his room without a word. He returned almost immediately, bundled in a coat and clutching his car keys.

“Get your shoes,” he said. “We’re going to Abby’s.”

Neil swallowed. Every single part of him wanted to deny it. After shoving his feet into some sneakers and throwing on an extra hoodie, he followed Andrew quietly up the steps that led to the main level. It was dark and quiet, everyone either asleep or passed out drunk. For a second, Neil wondered if Andrew should be driving, though he seemed unusually alert and steady. Come to think of it, Neil wasn’t sure he’d even seen him drinking during the party.

“Oh hey, guys, couldn’t sleep either?”

Matt’s voice startled them both. Neil flinched, then shuddered as a foreign wave of need flushed hotly through his body. He nearly groaned at the sensation. Suddenly all he wanted to do was get closer to Matt. To feel the heat of his body. To –

Andrew planted himself in front of Neil. A solid, unrelenting shield between Neil and the alpha standing nearby.

“Back off, Boyd,” Andrew said in a low, flat voice.

“What’s –” Matt paused, eyes widening. “_Oh_. Shit, I’m sorry. I’m – wait. It’s not you. But –”

“Come any closer and you die.”

Neil hadn’t seen Andrew draw the knife from his armband, but suddenly it was there, in his hand, pointing at Matt. Matt’s eyes got impossibly wide.

“Are you crazy?” he hissed. “I’m not going to _attack_ you. Jesus, Andrew. I just want to know what’s going on.”

Andrew gave an emphatic shake of his head. “Neil. Car. Now.”

Later, Neil would consider apologizing to Matt. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to get out of the house before _he_ barreled straight through Andrew and did what his body was urging him to do.

Neil alternated between sweating and shivering on the way to Abby’s. Andrew didn’t swat his hand away when he messed with the heat, switched it to AC, then switched it back to heat. He did drive one-handed for a moment while pressing his phone against his head.

“We’re coming now,” was all he said. Then hung up.

Another awful cramp twisted through Neil and he hunched over, arms wrapped around his middle, groaning softly. It felt like someone had taken a vice, shoved it inside him, and cranked it to the tightest setting. It was unrelenting. By the time it finally passed, Neil was seeing tiny black spots in his vision from not breathing properly.

Andrew screeched the car to a halt outside Abby’s. He helped Neil to his feet with a perfectly blank expression, saying nothing as Abby greeted them at the door, wrapped in a bright red robe and a layer of obvious worry. Neil was suddenly glad for Andrew’s apathy; it was much easier to bare.

Andrew disappeared while Abby settled Neil into one of the guest bedrooms. It smelled of clean linen and the barest hint of citrus – Neil pressed a hand to his mouth, quite sure he was going to be sick.

“I’m hesitant to give you anything to lessen the symptoms,” Abby explained with a regretful expression. “Not while your system is trying to realign itself. I can give you something for the pain, and the nausea if it gets too much. We’ll play the rest by ear for now, alright?”

Neil didn’t see that he had much of a choice, so he just nodded.

The pain meds knocked him out. When he woke again, sunlight filtered through the blinds and he felt amazingly worse. The vicious cramps had relented somewhat, only to be replaced by an all-consuming fire that had all his nerve endings standing on end. Neil had suffered through many injuries in his life, from minor to life threatening. He’d felt his skin literally peel away from his body, had fevers that came close to causing brain damage. He’d never felt anything like this.

After pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes long enough to cause tiny sunbursts, Neil flipped over and saw Andrew sleeping in the corner of the room. He’d stolen a blanket and propped himself against the walls, now slumped against, chin resting on his chest.

Neil sat up, causing the bed to creak. Andrew jerked awake immediately, eyes focusing on Neil.

“Bathroom,” Neil muttered unnecessarily. He stood, waited a few seconds for a wave of dizziness to pass, and padded into the adjoined bathroom. He went about his business, then twisted the shower on. He still couldn’t figure out if he was hot or cold, only that his skin literally hurt, and he needed to do something about it.

He managed to sleep through most of day one. It wasn’t a restful sleep, interspersed with fever and never-ending nausea. Abby convinced him to eat a few crackers and some plain chicken broth in the evening, which he promptly threw up.

Day two was worse.

The symptoms changed, as he knew they would. The persistent body aches remained, but now there was an ache of a different, embarrassing variety. Neil hid underneath the covers in mortification, hand pressed against himself. He was so hard it hurt.

His body thrummed with need. He knew what it wanted, what would make him feel better. What would make him feel _whole_. Only Neil didn’t want that, so he pressed his fingernails into still-healing burns on his palms and tried to ignore everything else.

Andrew remained a steadfast presence in the corner of the room. Whenever Neil woke up, he was there. He stayed silent for the most part and Neil noticed how his eyes tracked Abby’s every movement whenever she stepped foot inside.

By the evening of day two, Neil forgot that he didn’t want the same thing as his body. A baser, primal part of his brain took hold and he groaned into the pillows as he imagined what it would feel like to have a warm, hard body pressed against his own. To have hands gliding over his skin, a hot, wet mouth claiming his.

“Andrew,” Neil panted. He felt hot all over. His skin _ached_.

Andrew glanced up. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing with his phone. He raised an eyebrow, indicating he was listening.

“Andrew,” Neil repeated, a little breathlessly. “Will you… will you kiss me?”

Andrew stared at him for a few seconds and looked back down at his phone.

“_Andrew_.” Neil swallowed. “Just kiss me. Please.”

“Don’t.”

Neil clenched his hands in frustration. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t use that word.” Andrew looked up. “And don’t ask me for that. Not right now.”

Neil swallowed a groan that was halfway a whine. “But it’s a yes. It’s always a yes with you.”

Andrew’s placid expression turned stony. Just for a second. “Don’t always me. And this is not a yes, Neil. I know the difference, even if you don’t.”

Some time later, after some more pain meds and a tiny shred of sense had made its way back into Neil’s brain, he took another shower and saw to the problem himself. It didn’t help entirely, but he felt slightly more himself when he climbed back into bed. The sheets were fresh. Someone must have changed them while he was up.

“For the record,” Neil said softly. “It was a yes. It still is. I’m sorry I asked though. That was…” He trailed off, unsure.

Andrew climbed to his feet and walked toward him. Neil felt a tiny thrill shiver up his spine and the recently calmed need in his body flared to life.

“Active and enthusiastic consent,” Andrew said, stepping close enough to touch.

Neil nodded hungrily. Andrew reached out a hand.

“ – is not something you are capable of at the moment,” Andrew finished. He poked Neil in the chest then withdrew his hand and crossed his arms.

Neil didn’t try to hide his frustration that time. He sunk back into the pillows and covered his face with his forearm.

“I fucking hate this,” he said. His voice broke slightly on the words.

“I know,” Andrew said. Because he did.

Day three progressed very much the same as day two. Which was to say, it sucked. Neil alternated between writhing around on the bed, too restless to even think straight, to laying still as death, swamped in despair and unrelenting pain. Even in the worst moments though, he didn’t ask Andrew to touch him again.

Finally, on the fourth day, Neil’s fever broke and he managed to eat more than broth and plain crackers. He didn’t know how his clothes had gotten there, but he found them waiting for him beside the bed and, after showering, he changed into something besides sweaty pajamas.

He felt marginally like himself. He also felt completely and utterly mortified. He’d begged Andrew to kiss him. He’d fantasized about Andrew touching him and pressing him down into the mattress while, in reality, they’d barely stepped into the kissing phase.

“Fuck,” Neil said softly to himself, running a hand across his face.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Andrew commented from his corner. He had a book propped on an upraised knee and a mug of coffee balanced in the other.

“I’m sorry,” Neil said, thinking about Andrew’s responses, how he’d steadfastly refused any and all of Neil’s heated attempts at contact. “I didn’t mean to ask you that. To push. I – fuck.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Andrew said. He flicked Neil an unimpressed look. “Of the two of us, I have approximately 800% times the experience than you do with heats. You don’t need to explain.”

Neil nodded, accepting that. He still felt like shit though.

“Thank you,” Neil said after a little while. “For staying.”

Andrew flipped a page in his book. “Apologizing unnecessarily, thanking me unnecessarily. You’re growing dangerously close to upping your percentage.”

Neil rolled his eyes. He also wondered when he’d come to find Andrew’s obnoxious remarks to be endearing.

“Oh god,” Neil said, suddenly remembering something else. “How am I going to tell the others?”

Andrew made a sound reminiscent of a sigh and snapped his book shut. “You hardly need to. Pretty sure they’ll notice fine on their own.”

“Yeah, I know,” Neil said. “I just – they’ll all have questions and I can’t – I mean, how can I possibly explain without saying everything else?”

“They won’t,” Andrew said. At Neil’s questioning look, he continued. “Have questions. I talked to Renee. No one will say anything.”

“Oh,” Neil said. “I – thank you.” He didn’t think even Renee could stop the storm of inquiries coming his way, but he appreciated the gesture. “What did you tell her?”

Andrew gave him a look like he was dumb. “Not to ask questions.”

Neil rolled his eyes again.

They decided to stay one additional night at Abby’s. Neil would face everyone soon, but for now, he had everything he needed in this room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being lovely and amazing as usual :)


	13. Chapter 13

“Can we run? Before we go back?”

Andrew paused on his way to the car. He thought about it for a second, then thought about giving Neil shit for asking his permission. Finally, he decided to shrug a single shoulder and, after dumping their bags into the backseat along with his keys and phone, took off into the woods without a word.

Abby’s house was further from town than the apartments, though the nature surrounding it sat less densely. It took Andrew a little while before it felt private enough to shed his clothes and shift. He stood there for a moment first, inhaling deeply, only the softly rustling trees and gentle hoot of a far-off owl disturbing the silence. The breeze was chilly in the mid-morning air. Goosebumps rose over his bare flesh and he curled his toes into the dirt beneath him. The shift flowed over him. Four feet on the ground. His tail twitched at a distant sound. He scented the air. He could smell Neil nearby, far enough away to afford them both their privacy, but close enough to keep track of. Good, he liked it when his pack was close by.

Andrew growled at himself. Thoughts in this form were an odd thing. He could still _think_ like a human, only every thought was overlaid by bone-deep, feline instincts and the distraction of heightened senses. Instincts told him to hunt, to protect, to defend. He’d long ago given up on deciphering which things belonged to human and which belonged to ocelot. Some shifters thought of themselves as separate beings. Not Andrew. He was one and the same.

He prowled through the trees, lazily making his way toward Neil. He knew from experience that Neil would be bursting with energy after his heat. Andrew was familiar with the feeling of wanting to crawl out of your own skin after everything else died down. The fervor of heat had always left him quite suddenly, while the residual energy his body created during the process didn’t know where to go. Growing up, Andrew dealt with it in whatever way he could. But he didn’t have to do that anymore. And neither did Neil.

Neil yipped softly, drawing his attention. Andrew blinked in brief surprise. Neil’s grey-streaked coat had given way to pure, unblemished white. It had only been a few weeks since their last run together, though the seasons had definitely taken a turn since then. Andrew supposed it would be great camouflage somewhere much further north. Here, surrounded by barren trees and tall yellow grass, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Predators would be able to see him from miles away. Andrew laid his ears back at the thought.

They ran together. Side by side they streaked through the trees, leaping nimbly over obstacles, feet slapping softly against the earth as they moved. Both of them were agile and sleek and they made little sound. Periodically Neil would toss his head to the side to make sure Andrew was still beside him, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he did so. He looked ridiculous, so Andrew bumped into his shoulder the next time he did it. Neil stumbled with a surprised bark. When he caught up, he did it again.

Eventually they slowed to a walk. Or rather, Andrew walked while Neil darted around in wild circles, trying to work off his energy. As a fox, Neil was playful and bursting with the need to move, move, move, even without the added factor of heat. Andrew wondered how he stayed so still and contained as a human, if that’s what was going on underneath.

Neil threw himself on the grass with a dramatic huff, then proceeded to roll around repeatedly, wiggling on his back from side to side until his pristine white fur was covered in a layer of dirt and debris. Unimpressed, Andrew sat down, licked his paw, and smoothed it over his fur. He’d never let himself get that dirty. Righting himself, Neil trotted over and shook his entire body, peppering Andrew with bits of soil and grass. Andrew swatted at him. Neil grinned. Then he took off running again.

It was easy to lose track of time while shifted. By the time they dressed and made it back to Andrew’s car, the better part of two hours had passed.

“Want to get something to eat?” Neil asked.

“Feeling avoidant?” Andrew replied.

He drove them to a tiny diner called Ma’s on the opposite side of town. The owner was an elderly beta woman called Doris. Andrew didn’t know her story, but he did know she baked cookies, pies, and loaves of bread for the shelter, which she delivered every Friday like clockwork.

Aside from Doris, two middle-aged women and a shy, pimple-faced redhead worked in the diner. None of them took any notice of Neil and his changed status when they walked in, as none of them had ever met him before, at least no more than in passing. Neil pretended not to be nervous as they settled into a booth, though he immediately started shredding Andrew’s discarded sugar packets after Andrew dumped them into his coffee.

“I’m guessing your mother wasn’t actually an omega,” Andrew commented while Neil littered the table with tiny white strips of paper.

Neil paused, then shook his head without looking up. “Beta. Though she would’ve disguised herself as one even if she hadn’t been. Easier to blend in that way.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why blend in?”

Neil shot him a look. “Rule number one of running for your life – don’t get caught. Getting noticed means getting caught.”

“And yet you got caught anyway,” Andrew said mildly.

“I…” Neil blinked, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “Yeah, I know. I was there. I should never have stayed in one place so long.”

Andrew regarded him for a moment, staying silent while one of the server’s refilled his coffee. “And now?”

“I told you I’d stay,” Neil said.

“You did,” Andrew agreed. “But you never said for how long.”

Neil seemed momentarily stunned. His hands twisted around the latest sugar packet he’d begun to demolish. His mouth twisted slightly in turn.

“You’re not as smart as you think you are, you know,” Neil said. Andrew raised an eyebrow. “You poke and prod until people do what you expect them to.”

Andrew thought about that for a second, decided it was mostly true. “People are predictable.”

Neil snorted. “And you’re an instigator.”

“Life’s boring. Have to find amusement somewhere.”

“So I amuse you?”

“Hardly.”

“You’re not as good of a liar as you think you are either.”

“Takes one to know one.” The response sounded hopelessly juvenile and Andrew barely managed not to grimace at his stupid mouth. Neil’s lips quirked slightly.

Food was delivered a few minutes later. Neil ignored his scrambled eggs and wheat toast for a moment, watching with a look of horror as Andrew dumped both blueberry and maple syrup over his stack of chocolate chip pancakes.

“You know that can’t be healthy, right?”

Andrew responded by shoveling a bite into his mouth.

Neil shook his head and tucked into his own meal.

“Are they always like that?” Neil asked a little while later. He didn’t elaborate, but Andrew saw the way his fingers clenched around the fork.

“Abby already told you they’re not,” Andrew said.

“Yeah, but she also isn’t speaking from experience. She can’t – ” Neil grimaced. “Never mind, forget I asked.”

“It’s not always that intense,” Andrew said, after thinking about it for a moment. “What you experienced. It’s like the volume got dialed up to ten while normally it’s a five or six.”

“Oh,” Neil said. “That’s… That still sounds shitty.”

“Shitty,” Andrew agreed.

Neil looked like he wanted to say something else, even opening and closing his mouth a couple times, before clamping it resolutely shut. When he did it again, Andrew set down his fork.

“What?” he asked.

Neil grimaced. “How do you deal with the – the symptoms that – feeling like you need to – wanting – ”

Andrew took another bite of his food. After swallowing, he said, “stop talking before you hurt yourself.”

Neil scowled. “You know what I’m trying to ask.”

Andrew shrugged. “Cold showers.”

“Cold showers,” Neil deadpanned. “That’s it?”

“You really want me to explain the rest?”

Neil’s face turned an immediate shade of red. “No! Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Maybe?”

Neil crossed his arms defensively. He glanced out the window, jaw clenching visibly. “Never anything… else? With someone, I mean. If it’s not always a ten, then…” He trailed off.

Andrew stared hard at his soggy pancakes before answering. “Would you have told me no?” He continued before Neil could respond. “Would you have told Matt no?”

Neil scowled. “Of course, I – shit. I don’t know. I think so?”

“And if Matt asked you to fuck him tonight, what would you say?”

Neil recoiled from Andrew’s blunt words. “Jesus, Andrew. I get it. Obviously I would tell him no. Not that he would ever ask.”

Andrew leaned forward slightly. “Obviously. But during a heat, you don't know? Case and point: if you can’t say no, then you can’t say yes. It’s that simple.”

“By that logic, no omega has ever had consensual… anything… during a heat.” Neil looked uncomfortable even as he said it. “That’s grim.”

Andrew didn’t respond. He knew, was keenly aware, that his thinking on this particular subject was rather black and white. He also knew that with proper trust, with self-awareness and firm boundaries, omegas could enjoy their heats in that way. Instincts were instincts, Bee would say, but thought and free-will were stronger, if you only knew how to find it. If you trusted your partner to help you find it. Andrew knew all that. It didn’t stop him from feeling the way he did. Andrew’s own yes’s and no’s had been twisted beyond the point of recognition during heats, had become points of dread and shame and revulsion. He’d never say that out loud though. He’d carved those words out of his mouth a long time ago. 

Neil was clearly too uncomfortable with the topic to continue discussing it further which Andrew was okay with. They finished their meals in companionable silence before finally heading back to the house. It was early afternoon on a weekday, so Andrew expected most everyone to be out and about. He wasn’t expecting to spot David’s car in the driveway as they pulled up, or the man himself sitting on the porch.

Neil tensed and straightened in his seat. When they got out of the car and walked up to the porch, he hunched his shoulders, as if trying to appear smaller. It was all pretty minor, barely visible if you weren’t looking, at least until David stood up and Neil visibly flinched.

David stilled, eyes moving between the two of them. His nostrils flared once, the only outward indication that he noticed Neil’s new status. 

"I won’t ask you to explain,” he spoke slowly, gaze settling on Neil. “But I do need you to understand something. Never in my life have a laid a finger on someone in anger, not unless they hit me first. That goes for alphas, betas, _and_ omegas. Do you understand me?”

Neil nodded once.

David continued. “You are a member of my pack, Neil. I don’t give a shit about your past or why you were stupid enough to wreck yourself with illegal drugs. Not like you’re the only one here.” He snorted to himself. “But I want you to promise me, if there’s anything that might affect your safety, or the safety of anyone in this pack, you will tell me. Sooner rather than later. Are we clear?”

“Yeah,” Neil responded quietly.

David regarded him a moment longer, before crossing his arms and turning his attention to Andrew. He pointed a finger at him. “You,” he said. “Why is there a cop from Oakland blowing up my phone trying to reach you?”

Andrew clutched his keys a bit too tightly. He could feel Neil’s gaze on the side of his head. He shrugged. “How am I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Andrew,” David said. “Legally speaking, everything was taken care of when you came here, so there’s no reason they should be contacting you. Especially not three years later. So I’m going to repeat myself. If there’s something I need to know about, you need to tell me now, and not when it becomes a literal shitstorm. This pack has enough going on as it is.”

“There’s nothing you need to know about.” Andrew started to walk past him, ready to forget they’d even had this conversation.

“I gave him your number.”

Andrew stopped, hand on the doorknob.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” David said. “This guy has called me three times in the past week. I’ve run interference for you, but whatever he wants, it’s between the two of you. Answer the phone when he calls, Andrew.”

Andrew continued inside without responding.

“What was that about?” Neil asked.

“You know what they say about curiosity, Neil,” Andrew said.

Apparently Neil had some sense left in his head, because he dropped it.

*******

As expected, the others bothered Neil with questions only when Andrew wasn’t around. Andrew knew, because he’d caught them at it a couple times. Neil seemed more pissed off about it than anything – he’d probably run out of ways to say ‘I’m fine’ – so Andrew let him fend for himself. 

At first, Neil seemed especially skittish around everyone, as if he expected some physical reprisal for his dishonesty. Given his history, he probably did.

It took a little over a week for him to settle back into his usual routine. The first time Andrew dropped him off at work he was so nervous about being out in public that he accidentally spilled Andrew’s coffee all over the car. Andrew threatened to drive him straight to therapy if he didn’t get out of the car and get his shit together. Neil scowled but listened.

Higgins didn’t call, not for several days. Andrew sat in the corner of the lounge, barely paying attention to the action-flick Kevin had picked out. Instead he watched the blank, dark screen of his phone, wondering when it would light up with a 510-area code. He didn’t have to pick up, no matter what David said. He could ignore it. Pretend he’d never heard the name Phil Higgins and had no clue what his calls might be related to. He wouldn’t though. Curiosity and tension burned a hole in his gut, and he knew, when the screen finally lit up, he would answer.

And he did, a few days later.

Andrew was at work, clearing down after dinner service, when his back pocket started vibrating insistently. He paused, stripping off his plastic dishwashing gloves, and slipped the phone out to see who it was. The screen read Alameda County, California. He stared at it so long that it stopped ringing, only to start again several seconds later.

“Do you need to get that?” Renee asked. She was wiping down the counters and giving him a curious look.

“Be right back,” Andrew muttered. Clutching his phone tightly, he kicked open the back door and stepped out into the cool night air. He punched the green button on his phone and lifted it to his ear.

“What?” he asked.

For a moment, no one talked. Then, “is this Andrew? Andrew Doe?”

Andrew closed his eyes briefly. He hated hearing his old name. “Do you harass everyone like this? Don’t pigs have anything better to do than make cross-country calls?”

Higgins chuckled in a low voice. “Yep, that sounds like Andrew. Good to know that attitude hasn’t changed.”

“Why are you calling me?” Andrew said. He drummed the fingers of his free hand against the side of the building.

“It’s about the Spear family,” Higgins replied. “Before you went to Palmetto, you warned me not to let any other kids be in that house. I want you assure you we took that warning seriously, but we never found anything to indicate why. Especially not knowing what we were looking for. Not until now.”

Andrew felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “What are you saying exactly?”

“Their latest foster child, he’s made some… accusations. But he’s scared. He won’t say who it was.”

“Latest?” Andrew said. “What do you mean, latest? That sounds like you’re saying there have been others.”

Higgins hesitated. “Only two, since you left,” he replied. “They didn’t foster for a while after that.”

“Only two,” Andrew repeated.

“Andrew, did someone in that house hurt you?”

Andrew shook his head. His ears were ringing. “What? No. Don’t ask me that.”

Higgins was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, but it’s important. Just give me a name. That’s all I need for now. Was it Richard? Was it – ”

Andrew hung up. His phone started ringing again immediately but he ignored it. He stared out into the night unseeingly until the door creaked open beside him and Renee poked her head out. Whatever she saw on his face was enough to keep her from saying anything. She disappeared briefly. When she returned, she silently handed Andrew his coat and keys.

“I’ll finish up tonight,” she said.

*******

Andrew’s paws pounded against the grass as he ran. Plants and low-hanging branches whipped by him and tiny critters scurried to clear his path. He let his mouth hang open slightly, panting from the exertion. The air was heavy and cool, weighed down by the recent thunderstorm. Everything felt still.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Andrew slowed to a trot, and finally to a stroll. The trees had thickened around him. He’d run pretty far into the woods. A nearby squirrel chattered in alarm at his presence, its tiny claws scratching on the bark as it scrambled away. Andrew had no interest in pursuing it, but he did brace his front paws against the tree it had sought refuge in and noisily sharpened his claws.

He wandered around for a while with no particular destination in mind. It felt good, running through the woods, letting his senses guide him. Much easier than thinking. More than anything right then, Andrew wanted not to think.

It was fully dark out, almost too dark for even his sharp feline eyes. He had the presence of mind to leave his phone with his clothes, rather than in the car. After shifting back to human, it would be nearly impossible to see without a flashlight. He stayed out there for quite a while. He didn’t want to lose the relative calm of the woods, didn’t want to feel people close by, didn’t want to hear them, didn’t want to talk to them.

He padded downstairs shortly after midnight. Aaron and Nicky were playing a game, bitching at each other about the rules. Neil was on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when Andrew walked in. He frowned slightly and set his phone down.

By the time Andrew finished his shower and walked back out into the lounge, Aaron and Nicky were gone. The tv had been switched over to a cooking show, the one where the chef screamed incessantly at all the contestants and sometimes resorted to making his point by throwing raw chicken on the ground.

Andrew settled on the opposite side of the couch from Neil, dragging a blanket up and over his shoulders. He was still a bit chilled from his late-night run.

“Coffee or ice-cream?” Neil asked.

Andrew glanced at him, not impressed with his attempt at coddling, but not annoyed enough to deny it either.

“Both,” he said.

Neil accepted this without argument. He disappeared upstairs for a bit. He came back balancing two travel mugs of coffee (decaf, Andrew knew), and an unopened pint of double-fudge brownie ice cream. He only brought one spoon. It turned out Neil didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. Sometimes Andrew wasn’t sure if he was human.

It was easy, this silence between them.

It stretched gently, not forced, not uncomfortable. Andrew thought he’d wanted to be alone. A part of him still did. And yet, somehow, this was better.


	14. Chapter 14

Neil often dreamed of death. For most of his life, the dreams were born of true events and genuine fear for his life. What if that bullet had pierced a little higher? What if that tire hadn’t missed him as he flung himself from a moving car? He dreamed of his father standing over a body, speckled with gore and blood, a cleaver dripping in his hands and eyes focused solely on Neil. He dreamed of Lola, cackling excitedly as she showed a shivering child how to butcher a rabbit.

The dreams never went away, but they had shifted, as of late. Aside from himself, Neil had only ever worried about the life of one other – his mom. She featured prominently in his dreams, both before and after her death. Now Neil dreamed about a lot of people. He saw all their faces, in varying states of torture and demise. He saw David standing over the body instead of his father, and he saw Lola, cackling even louder as she showed an adult Neil how to butcher an ocelot.

Neil’s imagination was a fucked-up place. 

In the days and weeks following the fire and Neil’s heat, uninterrupted sleep became a precious thing. He woke exhausted and blurry eyed more often than not, trudging through the day in his usual overly alert mental state while his body struggled to keep up. Any time someone mentioned alphas, betas, and omegas, Neil tensed like a bow, ready to run, ready to fight. Any time he didn’t have to do either of those things – which was every time – he was left feeling like a slowly deflating balloon, not quite sure what to do with all the adrenaline built up inside him.

He ended up running a lot. Mostly as a human, sometimes as a fox. The rhythmic pounding of his feet on the pavement quelled the violence that lived at his core, helped quiet his mind.

That was how Neil found himself on a grey, Sunday afternoon in late November. Muscles burning, sweat pouring down his back. He swiped a hand across his face and finally decided to go back to the house. He kicked off his sneakers in the entry way, catching snippets of Allison’s phone conversation about Thanksgiving plans for the following week from the other room. Apparently she wasn’t the only one heading out of Palmetto for the holidays. At first Neil had been surprised to learn so many of them had families, had lives, outside of this pack. If they had families, semi-functional it seemed in many cases, why were they here? Neil didn’t get it. He also didn’t think too hard on it. In the end, if it didn’t affect Neil directly then he wasn’t overly concerned by it.

Neil managed to avoid anyone else as he made his way downstairs, intent on showering. The basement was quiet, oddly vacant. Andrew’s door was propped open a tiny bit, which meant he was home, otherwise he kept it closed and locked.

Neil’s shower was perfunctory – his showers always were. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere else that night, so he dressed in a clean pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt that had perhaps seen better days. It still smelled vaguely of smoke, but not enough to really bother him.

He wiped a hand across the steamed-up mirror and assessed his roots, examining them for even the barest hint of red. At this point, with so many of his other secrets revealed and in the open, it almost seemed pointless to keep up this particular façade. It was just hair color, after all. But whenever Neil imagined looking at himself with his natural coloring, all he saw was his father’s face looking back.

Neil dropped his sweaty clothes and towel in a laundry basket beside his bed. He turned around, planning to walk back upstairs to find food. He didn’t expect to find Andrew propped against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” Neil asked.

Andrew didn’t answer. Instead he took a step forward, toeing the door shut behind him, and walked up to the bed, crowding Neil against it until the backs of his knees touched the mattress. A jolt of heady anticipation shot through Neil. Andrew paused, looking at Neil with a carefully blank expression. He didn’t have to say anything because Neil already knew the question.

“Yes,” Neil said. Then again with emphasis, “_yes_.”

They hadn’t kissed in weeks, not since before Neil’s heat. That seemed monumentally stupid now as Neil forgot why he’d ever spent his days doing anything else.

Kissing Andrew was like an addiction. He was a drug made of fire and heat and burning anger. Lips and tongues tangled together, searching desperately for answers. Scorching hands dragged across Neil’s skin and he nodded eagerly when Andrew’s fingers asked a question before sliding underneath Neil’s shirt and over bare skin. Neil shivered and burned simultaneously as Andrew traced briefly over the scars on his belly, smoothed upward over his chest. He made a soft noise when Andrew dragged a nail lightly over his nipple. He made another when Andrew’s thigh found its way between Neil’s and pressed against him.

“Fuck, Andrew,” Neil said softly, breaking the kiss. He gasped and closed his eyes when Andrew responded by shifting his thigh, before replacing it with a hand. The touch was oddly gentle for just a moment. It quickly became frenzied as Andrew dipped his hand inside Neil’s sweats and touched him fully for the first time.

Neil gasped and made helpless noises that Andrew swallowed from his lips as he stroked him roughly. It was quick and ruthless – Neil didn’t think he would want it any other way. He came with their foreheads pressed together, crying out softly. Andrew’s other hand was buried in his hair, holding on tightly as Neil came apart in his hands. Both of them paused for a few moments, just breathing.

Aftershocks shivered through Neil’s body. He ached to touch Andrew. His fingers twitched at his sides and he realized Andrew hadn’t made a move to attend to himself.

“Andrew.” He spoke without moving away, afraid to break the spell. “Do you want…?”

Andrew pressed a final kiss against Neil’s lips before shifting back, withdrawing his hand and wiping it on Neil’s shirt. He shook his head once and Neil accepted that. When he left the room without a word a moment later, Neil accepted that as well. He knew better than to be offended.

He heard the door shut to Andrew’s room and Neil collapsed backward onto his bed. He still hadn’t caught his breath and didn’t think he would for quite some time. In some quiet, hidden corner of Neil’s mind he’d been worried Andrew’s refusal to touch him during heat had been a stop to things between them overall. Things – whatever things were – had barely just started between them, yet Neil somehow couldn’t imagine never having it again. He felt dizzy from relief, dizzy from Andrew’s kisses. He felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.

*******

Nicky cornered Neil a couple days later. He tried to be casual about it and pretend he had some reason to follow Neil into the kitchen at 5:30am. As Neil leaned against the counter and waited for the coffee to finish brewing, Nicky stared at the toaster and kept sneaking hopeful glances at Neil.

“What?” Neil asked shortly. He was not awake enough to play nice.

“Huh? Oh, morning, Neil!” Nicky feigned nonchalance and smiled largely.

“What do you want?”

Nicky tried for confused. “I’m just making breakfast. Are you normally up this early too?”

“Nicky.”

“Oh alright. You caught me. I wanted to talk to you.” Nicky smiled, though it had an oddly nervous tinge to it.

“So talk,” Neil said. The coffeemaker gurgled behind him and he longed for it to finish.

“Yeah, so you know how my parents live in Columbia, right?” Nicky started. “I don’t exactly have the best relationship with them.” He grimaced. “That’s not true. My relationship with them sucks hard.”

Neil realized Nicky was waiting for him to ask why, so he did.

“It’s partly because I live here now, with the twins. My dad was really pissed that I ‘corrupted’ Aaron into coming here. But really it’s about me liking guys. Liking alphas, particularly.”

“Why do they care?” Neil asked. “You’re a beta.” It came out sounding a little harsh, but it was true. Society loved to tell omegas how to act, who to be with. Even alphas couldn’t escape those expectations, though they had more freedom to do so. Betas existed somewhere between all that, or maybe beyond it.

“You’d think that would help, but it doesn’t,” Nicky said. He looked away for a second, looking abruptly sad and lost. “My parents are super fundamentalist. Alphas can only be with omegas. Betas can only be with betas. And because multiplying and growing the fundy army is the ultimate goal, betas have to be hetero so we can pop out as many beta babies as possible.”

“That’s dumb,” Neil said. He didn’t know what else to say.

Nicky laughed lightly, losing some of the melancholy from his expression. “Agreed. But anyway, sorry, didn’t meant to regale you with all that. Um, what I meant to say is my parents have invited me home for Christmas dinner. But they said I have to bring Aaron and Andrew. Only there’s no way in hell Andrew will go if I ask him. Sooo…”

Neil was not impressed. “You want me to ask him.”

“Would you?” Nicky’s face lit up earnestly. “He totally listens to you.”

“Why do your parents care if he’s there?”

Nicky shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, like it or not, he’s family. Maybe they feel like they missed their chance to get to know him. Andrew wouldn’t have anything to do with us for years, and then suddenly he was living an hour away. Second chances, I guess?”

“I guess,” Neil echoed doubtfully. The whole thing seemed strange, as did Nicky’s desire to see his parents if they were so horrible to him.

"So will you ask him? Please? I’ll owe you for, like, ever.” Nicky smiled hopefully. “I never thought my parents would reach out to me like this, you know? I haven’t seen my mom in years.”

Neil sighed to himself. “Yeah, I’ll ask.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Neil narrowly avoided Nicky’s enthusiastic attempt to hug him. Finally, he managed to leave the kitchen with his coffee.

He didn’t bring up the conversation with Andrew until the following evening while they sat outside in the back yard, passing a cigarette back and forth.

“Nicky’s parents asked him home for Christmas dinner, but apparently he’s only invited if you and Aaron go as well. He thought I could convince you. So I’m asking – will you go?”

Andrew didn’t look at him. “Let me think about it. No.”

“Why not?”

“Because Luther is an asshole.” He dangled the cigarette from his fingers. “I thought Nicky of all people would remember that.”

“He does,” Neil said. “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss them anyway.”

Andrew slid him a sideways glance. “You think I should go.”

Neil shrugged. “I think you should do what you want. You’ll never hear the end of it from Nicky though. He seemed excited in a way that puts his other excited times to shame.”

They sat quietly for several minutes before Andrew spoke again.

“Did Nicky tell you his parents sent him to a conversion camp when he was a teenager?”

Neil shook his head.

Andrew tapped his fingers on his knees. “I read about it. Not the shiny, proselytizing brochures but what people who’ve been there say about it. Brainwashing, torture. Also horseback riding and archery. Apparently Nicky didn’t get enough of it the first time.”

Neil thought about the sad, lost look in Nicky’s eyes and suddenly it made a lot more sense. As did Andrew’s violent defense of him all those months ago.

“Maybe they regret it,” Neil said. “It’s not like Nicky’s changed, so why would they tell him to come home otherwise?”

“Do you think your father regrets it?”

Neil couldn’t help it – he flinched. Andrew must have noticed, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“People like that don’t regret it,” Andrew said. His phone buzzed, rattling noisily on the cement. Andrew glanced down at it and tapped it to mute without answering. “Case and point.”

“That’s the fourth time I’ve seen you hang up on someone today. Don’t tell me someone else you hate is inviting you to Christmas dinner too.” He frowned slightly. “Is it the cop?”

“No, the pig is not inviting me to Christmas dinner,” Andrew answered mildly.

“Funny,” Neil said. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I told you to leave it alone.”

“Actually you told me something about curiosity and cats. Good thing I’m not a cat.”

The phone started ringing again. It was muted, so it just lit up and cast a soft glow into the otherwise darkness. Andrew turned it over.

Neil hadn’t played the question game in weeks and he didn’t want to pry. But it was driving him nuts to see Andrew dodging the same phone call for literally weeks. Andrew approached life like he did fights – barreling forward with both fists swinging. Witnessing this odd avoidance put Neil on edge.

“I’m taking a turn,” Neil said. “Why does that cop want to talk to you?”

Andrew didn’t respond right away. He didn’t react at all really, and Neil had just begun to wonder if Andrew would ignore him completely when he finally answered.

“He wants me to rat out one of my old foster families,” Andrew said. “I warned him about them years ago and he did nothing. Not my problem if he’s feeling guilty now.”

Neil sat there for a moment, unsure. Andrew didn’t offer up information about his years in foster care, ever. Now that he had tread there by accident, the ground felt fragile and uncertain.

“Why you?” Neil asked slowly. “Surely there are other kids they fostered, right? Why is he bothering you?”

Andrew took a slow drag on the cigarette, burning it down to the filter. He discarded it and lit another before saying anything else.

“I was there for five years.” His tone was bored. “They almost adopted me.” He said it like it didn’t matter, and maybe it didn’t, not to Andrew. Something didn’t line up though. Neil just didn’t know what.

“Is that why you never came to South Carolina? Before Palmetto, I mean.”

Andrew tilted his head and blew smoke in Neil’s direction. Neil waved it away with a scowl.

“You’re all full on your question quota,” he said. “Try again next time.”

Neil didn’t push. He’d pushed enough already. He’d take whatever scraps of Andrew he could get, even if they didn’t always make sense.

“So Christmas,” Neil said.

Andrew huffed softly. “Didn’t we already talk about this?”

“It’s just dinner. You could bring an awful side-dish, so they have to pretend to like it. Or spit in their glasses when no one’s looking.”

Andrew hummed slightly at the last suggestion but didn’t look any closer to being convinced. So Neil tried a tactic he hadn’t considered until that very moment.

“I’ll make Nicky invite me too. And Kevin,” Neil suggested. “You’d stay at that hotel anyway, right? Since when do you pass up a chance to go to Eden’s Twilight?”

Finally, Andrew looked interested. Or at least less bored. He thought about it for a minute.

“We all go. But not for Christmas. I’m not wasting a holiday on Luther and Maria Hemmick. And clubs aren’t open on Christmas.”

Neil suppressed a smile. “Fair point. I’ll tell Nicky.”

*******

They spent Thanksgiving at Abby’s. David and Betsy were there as well – Neil avoided Betsy like the plague because therapists freaked him out – along with Kevin, Robin, and the cousins. It was a supremely lazy day of over-indulgent food, all-day mimosas (for some of them - straight whisky for the others), and god-awful holiday movies playing on tv. Neil sat back and watched mostly. He’d spent the previous Thanksgiving sleeping on the floor of a vacant house, eating lunch meat turkey and slightly expired bread. Before that he didn’t even remember what he’d been doing. Days like Thanksgiving had been meaningless, especially when spent in other countries. It never occurred to him that he was missing anything before.

Nicky was ecstatic about seeing his family, though Neil suspected some of it was misplaced nerves. They’d agreed to a Saturday in early December and agreed, somewhat more reluctantly, to admit Kevin and Neil as well. Neil didn’t expect much from Nicky’s parents, not after what he’d heard, but he hoped, for their son’s sake, they were trying to be better.

Andrew tugged Neil into a guest bedroom at Abby’s that night. Everyone was either gone by that point or passed out in various places around the house. Still, it felt illicit and exciting as they pressed together at a frenzied pace. Neil stuffed his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie, needing something to hang onto as Andrew kissed him into a dizzying mess. When Andrew’s hands followed Neil’s into the hoodie, he thought it was a message to stay put. Only then Andrew wrapped his fingers around Neil’s wrists and gently pulled his hands free of the fabric. He held onto them for a second, breathing hard, his mouth parted slightly as he stared at Neil, then he lifted Neil’s hands and placed them on his head.

“Just here,” he said. When Neil nodded his understanding, he kissed him again.

Neil carded his fingers through Andrew’s hair, marveling at its softness. When Andrew’s fingers found their way inside Neil’s boxers, Neil tightened his grip, grateful for something to hold. He pressed kisses down the side of Andrew’s neck, taking note of the way Andrew’s pace stuttered and he shuddered bodily when Neil’s lips found the juncture between neck and collarbone. He smiled and did it again.

Neil soon lost track of anything other than sensation, the quickly building pressure between his legs, Andrew’s lips pressed hard against his own, the warmth of Andrew’s scalp beneath Neil’s fingers. Neil had to press his face against Andrew’s neck to muffle his groans as he finished. They stood there together for another few minutes, breathing and kissing away whatever breath they had left. When Andrew untangled himself and disappeared to the bathroom, Neil only felt the vaguest sense of disappointment. Whatever hang-ups Andrew had, Neil knew questioning him about it wouldn’t do any good. If that’s what Andrew wanted, what he needed, Neil was more than happy to oblige. 

He also decided holidays were okay.

*******

The day of the dinner approached faster than anticipated. Nicky grew in both excitement and trepidation in the days leading up to it. He tried to hide the latter emotion, fairly unsuccessfully, as far as Neil was concerned. He was waiting for a shoe to fall. And it did, the Saturday of the dinner.

“Kevin’s sick,” Aaron informed them, as they were packing up Andrew’s car. “He says he’s not going.”

A look of sheer panic crossed Nicky’s face. “Oh, _no_!” he whined. “If Kevin’s not going, Andrew won’t either. Dinner is going to be ruined!”

That seemed a little dramatic, in Neil’s opinion, so he rolled his eyes and went to find Andrew.

“Tell me you’re not staying home just because Kevin is,” Neil said, greeting him on the stairs.

“I’m not staying home just because Kevin is,” Andrew replied. He shouldered past him. “I’m also not going to dinner. You can tell them I’m sick. Kevin had a good idea for once in his life.”

“Andrew.” Neil followed him out. “You can’t just not go.”

“And yet,” Andrew said. He shoved his bags into the trunk and slammed it shut. “It’s not like they’ll slam the door in his face when I’m not there.” He paused. “At least I don’t think so.”

Neil sighed. “You get to tell Nicky.”

Nicky whined and groaned and cajoled the entire drive to Columbia. He might as well have been talking to a rock, for all the reaction he got from Andrew. They checked into their usual hotel, got their usual suite. Andrew tossed his keys to Nicky before flopping onto the couch and throwing an arm across his eyes.

“Wake me when you’re back,” he said.

Aaron looked sullen, Nicky devastated. Neil thought they were all ridiculous. He threw a pillow at Andrew (which got zero reaction) and the three of them went on their way.

They pulled up to the Hemmick's fifteen minutes early. Nicky killed the engine and sat there for a moment, breathing unsteadily and wiping his palms on his pants over and over again.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Aaron said.

Maria greeted them at the door with a tight, hesitant smile.

“Why did you knock?” she asked Nicky.

Nicky tried to hide the bitterness on his face as he smiled politely. “This isn’t my house anymore,” he reminded her. Maria smiled ever more tightly and led them inside.

Luther Hemmick looked nothing like his son. His severe, deeply lined face spoke of perpetual frowns and a general dissatisfaction with the world. When he viewed their small group, he looked even more dissatisfied. His gaze settled on Aaron for a moment, then moved dismissively past him toward the door.

“Where’s Andrew?” Luther asked.

“He and Kevin are really sick,” Nicky said quickly, with genuine regret, even though it was a lie. “Andrew actually came all the way to Columbia and just wasn’t feeling up to it by the time we got here, so he stayed at the hotel. He’s really sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Luther frowned further. “That same omega-run hotel you used to run off to as a teenager? That place is unnatural. Omegas have no place running businesses.” His eyes swept over Aaron and Neil dispassionately. Neil had to clench his fists and force himself not to react.

Maria led them to the dining room and Neil had the uncomfortable job of watching Nicky attempt to make small talk with his own mother. He was growing more and more jealous of Andrew’s decision to stay behind.

Luther disappeared for a little while. When he came back, sliding into the chair at the head of the table, Neil heard a door shut somewhere in the house. He glanced at the others, wondering if they’d heard it too, but no one said anything.

Dinner wasn’t quite ready, so they sat around the table sipping on non-alcoholic beverages while they waited. Nicky tried his best to play nice, but his father seemed intent on needling him over and over. About being gay. About Erik. About joining the Palmetto pack. Aaron barely said anything, and Neil forced himself to hold his tongue.

Maria excused herself to check on the food and Neil noticed Luther checking his phone for the dozenth time. An odd sense of foreboding snaked through Neil.

“Was someone else here when we arrived?” Neil asked.

The conversation around the table halted, all eyes finding him. Luther frowned at Neil.

“How is that any of your business?” he responded coolly.

Neil survived on his instincts. They were finely honed, and he never, ever ignored them. Something was very wrong here.

“Who was here?” Neil pressed.

“Neil,” Nicky started, glancing at his father nervously. “I don’t think – ”

“Omegas are such nosy creatures,” Luther sneered, giving him a nasty look. “That was an old foster brother of Andrew’s. He was here as a surprise, if you must know. Which of course Andrew ruined. They parted on bad terms years ago and Drake is hoping to make amends.”

Alarm bells sounded in Neil’s head. The cop trying desperately to get in touch with Andrew. The foster family where something bad had happened, something only Andrew could speak to apparently.

Luther continued. “He was very disappointed, so I gave him directions to that hotel of yours. He came all the way across the country, after all.”

Neil leapt to his feet, jarring the table. Aaron stared at him like he was crazy, and Nicky looked alarmed.

“Nicky, give me your keys. Now.”

“Neil?” Nicky asked.

“Keys! _Now_!”

Nicky nodded hastily and fished in his pocket for a second before tossing the keys to Neil.

Neil ran.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: DRAKE (and all that that entails - please see the tags - this is a rough chapter)

Someone knocked on the door. Sprawled on the couch with an outdated nature documentary playing for background noise, Andrew barely twitched. On the coffee table, his phone started to buzz insistently. He flipped it to silent without looking and turned up the volume on the tv a little more. The knocking continued. Andrew gave the door an annoyed glance. Housekeeping had no reason to come by, seeing as they’d just checked in, and the others had been gone less than an hour. Besides, they had two keycards between the three of them; there was no reason to knock. 

The knocking increased to pounding and a muffled voice shouted, “Delivery!”. Andrew waited another thirty seconds, seeing if they would go away, before hauling himself to his feet and walking to the door. He yanked it open, opened his mouth to say he hadn’t ordered anything, and then the world crashed down around him.

“Hi, AJ.”

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Drake smiled. He raised one of his hands. Andrew had just enough time to recognize an upside-down bottle of bourbon before it crashed across his temple. Andrew didn’t remember falling to the ground, but suddenly he was there, cheek pressed to the tiled flooring, a puddle of slowly growing liquid around his head. He couldn’t tell if it was blood or alcohol.

Hands clutched his shoulders, rolling him onto his back. Glass crunched beneath him. The hands moved to the waist of his jeans, scraping his skin as they loosened a button, worked down the zipper. Pure, unfettered adrenaline flooded Andrew’s body.

Drake wasn’t expecting him to fight back, not after such a blow. Andrew’s first punch should’ve broken his nose – it would have, if he weren’t so off-balance. It was enough to surprise him, to loosen his hold. Andrew bucked, pulled up a knee that managed to find its way into Drake’s groin. Drake grunted in pain, collapsing to the side and cursing. Andrew scrambled backward. He barely felt the glass as it sliced into his palms. He managed to turn onto his hands and knees, but the world pitched sickeningly sideways, and his vision fuzzed out momentarily.

A sharp kick to the gut flipped him over. The air punched out of his lungs and for several long moments all Andrew could do was curl himself into a protective ball against the continued blows. At some point, Drake straddled his waist and started punching him, jerking his head from side to side. Andrew coughed blood, spattering the tiles. He felt something crunch. It could have been bones or broken glass.

Glass. Andrew’s hands were free, if not working entirely well. He curled his fingers, felt a sizeable shard cut into his skin. He clutched it tightly, felt the blood dripping from his fingers. Then he drove it into Drake’s chest.

Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to do any permanent damage. Still, Drake howled in surprise and outrage. He stared down at Andrew with a wild look in his eyes.

“Fuck you!” Andrew spat. He yanked the bloody glass out and let it clatter to the tiles.

Drake’s face twisted and he growled. He grasped Andrew’s shoulders and slammed him into the ground, head bouncing with the impact. Andrew’s vision greyed out.

He came to face-down on a mattress. Nothing made sense for a moment as his mind struggled to catalog his various hurts, to figure out why he was so cold. He clenched his teeth against the overwhelming pain in his head. It felt ready to split in two.

“I don’t remember you being so much fucking trouble,” Drake hissed from behind him.

Reality slammed into Andrew like a sledgehammer. How could _he_ be here? How could this be happening?

Andrew struggled but it did little good as Drake pinned him bodily to the mattress and snarled filthy things into his ear. He let them slither in and out without really hearing them. His mind would remember later, of course – it never let him forget the things he really wanted to. He tried not to think, tried not to feel as the past and present crashed together. All Andrew could do was wait for it to end.

*******

Neil drove faster than he had in his entire life. Andrew’s car galloped through the streets of Columbia, engine revving as Neil smashed the gas-pedal to the floorboards, tires squealing and rubber burning as he took turns at an ungodly pace. He nearly spun-out at one point and he eased off the gas ever so slightly. It wouldn’t do any good to crash on the way there.

Neil’s thoughts spun at nearly the same rate as the tires. He hoped he was overreacting. He couldn’t be sure this foster brother, Drake, had anything to do with the police investigation. Even if he did, that didn’t mean anything. Not necessarily. Maybe he’d come to talk. Maybe he really did want to repair his relationship with Andrew.

Neil thought that line of thinking was bullshit. Every little hint, every half-revealed truth Andrew had given Neil all lined up to point at _something_.

_They took things from me_, Andrew had said. Neil desperately wanted to know what they took. He was desperately terrified to find out.

He called Andrew’s phone while he drove, punching the redial button every time it went to voicemail. Frustration and dread built up in his gut like a physical thing

Amazingly, not a single cop took note of Neil’s wild drive across town. A part of him wanted them to. They’d mean automatic backup, even if they thought Neil was the subject of their pursuit. Neil squealed to a halt outside the hotel’s main office. He threw on the emergency lights and cranked up the parking brake before jumping out and rushing past a frazzled looking employee. She tried to tell Neil he couldn’t park there, but Neil barely heard her. He also didn’t care. He’d pay a parking ticket if it meant getting to Andrew faster.

Neil swiped the keycard and shoved the door open the second it flashed green. For a single, breathless moment he thought everything was fine. Recently brewed coffee sputtered in the kitchen and a British commentator on tv was saying something about polar bears. Then Neil looked down.

The floor was covered in shattered glass and blood. A muffled thump sounded from one of the bedrooms. Heart in his throat, Neil darted into the kitchen and yanked a steak-knife from the wooden block. The first bedroom door was closed. He yanked it open, relieved to find it unlocked. The relief vanished instantly as Neil’s worst nightmares came to life. He took it all in within the span of two seconds – the blood, the violence, Andrew’s bloodless fingers shoved up against the wall. Neil gripped the knife and dove at Drake.

Drake was a large man, heavily muscled, heavily tattooed. Under normal circumstances, Neil would have little chance of overpowering him. But Neil had the element of surprise and Drake’s pants were tangled around his ankles. As one, they tumbled over the side of the bed. Drake let out a furious roar and reached for Neil’s throat. Neil rolled, narrowly avoiding his grasp. Drake grabbed his arm instead, squeezed hard enough for Neil to feel his bones creaking in protest. He pulled Neil toward him, wrenching his shoulder. His eyes were blazing. He was a man used to cowering those around him. A man used to getting his way.

But Neil, Neil was the son of the Butcher of Baltimore, and he knew how to use a knife.

It took a single swipe.

Everything froze for a moment. Drake stared down at him uncomprehendingly just before blood poured from his neck in a torrent. Neil had cut his carotid.

Drake gurgled and gasped, clutching at his neck as he collapsed forward, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood. Neil scrambled out of the way. Hot liquid spattered his skin, his clothes, and Neil’s stomach roiled in protest. Drake’s eyes found his, pleading and afraid.

Neil turned away.

Andrew hadn’t moved. For a single, awful moment Neil thought him dead. He lay face-down, wearing nothing but a t-shirt, covered in blood and bruises. Very slowly, he turned his head toward Neil and watched him with a blank expression.

“Andrew…” Neil said. Or he tried to. His voice came out strangled and strange.

Someone was pounding on the front door. The door beeped as it opened, and Neil’s stomach dropped to his feet. He crawled onto the bed, yanking the bloody sheets up and over Andrew’s exposed body just as someone in the entryway cursed in alarm. The frazzled hotel clerk poked her head in the room a moment later, freezing at the violent scene before her.

“Call 911,” Neil said without looking up. He couldn’t take his eyes off Andrew.

“Oh my god…” She said in a horrified voice as she backed quickly away. Neil heard her on the phone a moment later and he felt a tiny shred of relief. Help would be here soon.

Andrew’s eyes drifted past Neil in the direction Drake had fallen.

“Is he dead?” he asked in an unerringly calm voice.

“Yeah,” Neil replied. “Yes. Andrew. Andrew, are you…” He stopped because he didn’t know what to say.

Andrew planted his hands on either side of his chest and pushed himself to a sitting position. He paused halfway, breath hitching. Neil tugged the sheet over his shoulders as he moved, made sure it didn’t fall off. Andrew blinked a few times and swallowed, clearly sick to his stomach. Neil didn’t know which one of them would lose that battle first.

“How are you here?” Andrew’s eyes flickered up to his.

“Luther,” Neil said. Rage licked at his insides. “He told Drake to come here.”

Understanding dawned on Andrew’s face, quick and terrible. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Where’s Aaron?”

Neil frowned. Why would he ask about Aaron now?

“Where is he?” Andrew repeated, a note of urgency in his voice.

“He’s… with Nicky,” Neil replied. “At the Hemmick’s. I took the car when… when I found out.”

Andrew accepted that silently. Sirens sounded outside. Andrew sighed softly and shifted around until his arms were free of the sheet. He quickly peeled off the black armbands and held them out to Neil.

“Pigs don’t like it when people like me have knives,” he explained.

Neil nodded, reaching for the bands. He immediately forgot about them at the familiar flash of raised white skin, stacked up and down Andrew’s forearms in tidy little blocks. Neil’s stomach dropped for a second time.

“Andrew…” He grabbed Andrew’s wrists, but Andrew yanked them back, tucking them to his chest.

“Don’t,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

The horrible reality of it all nearly floored Neil as he shoved the armbands and knives between the mattress and the box springs. He remained quiet while they waited for cops to arrive. When Andrew lost the battle with his stomach, Neil helped push him forward while he choked. When the paramedics arrived and promptly took over, Neil let them.

Cops and various uniforms poured into the room. Neil lost track of how many he talked to. At first he refused to say anything, not even his name, but they threatened to haul him down to the police station, away from Andrew. So he told them, in halting sentences, what had happened, while the paramedics saw to Andrew and eventually loaded him onto a stretcher.

More than one of the cops was clearly dubious about the entire situation, about how Neil had managed to overpower an alpha. Neil played their prejudice to his advantage. He said he’d been afraid, that he’d acted without thinking when he saw Drake attacking Andrew, that he’d swiped at Drake in self-defense. It was merely an accident, a coincidence, that the blade had nicked such an important artery. Drake had bled out before they arrived.

Eventually, they drove him to the hospital. A cop would stay with him as an escort, they explained, until his Pack Alpha arrived. Neil just nodded. He didn’t care. As long as it got him to Andrew.

He slumped into a chair in the hospital waiting room. His cop escort sat nearby, a young beta woman who looked extremely uncomfortable with the whole situation. People kept giving him curious, slightly fearful glances and Neil didn’t understand why until he realized he was covered in blood. Drake’s, Andrew’s. He crossed his arms and tried not to pick at the drying flakes on his fingernails. He felt numb. None of this felt real.

At some point, the cop cleared her throat and tapped her fingers against her cellphone. Neil stared for a moment before he felt his own phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out. Nineteen missed calls. From Nicky, David, and even Aaron. David was calling again now. With nerveless fingers, Neil swiped it to green and pressed the phone against his ear.

“We’re at the hospital,” Neil said.

The other end crackled with the sounds of passing cars. “It’s about goddamn time you picked up,” David greeted. “I know where you are. The Columbia PD already talked to me.” He paused for a moment. “Are you okay?”

Neil shook his head. He realized David couldn’t see him, so he said, “I’m fine.”

David made a sound of clear disbelief. “Just stay put until I get there, okay? I’m less than an hour away.”

“Okay,” Neil said. Remembering, he said, “can you… talk to Nicky and Aaron? They don’t know what’s happening. I can’t…” He swallowed heavily and closed his eyes.

“Already did that too,” David said. “I didn’t tell them which hospital yet because I figured Andrew could do without the commotion.”

Neil puffed out a breath. “Okay,” he said again. After hanging up, he turned off his phone.

Andrew walked out about thirty minutes later. Someone had given him scrub pants and an oversized sweatshirt with the hospital logo stamped across the front. Neil surged to his feet, heart beating a mile a minute. Andrew stopped several feet away, glancing dismissively at the beta cop before looking back to Neil.

“They decided not to throw you in jail,” he said.

Neil shrugged lightly. Nothing about this felt light. “Not yet.”

The cop looked like she was about to say something when another one walked in. She immediately stood, saluting.

“Sir,” she greeted formally.

The new cop was an alpha, clearly highly ranked. Neil didn’t remember seeing him at the hotel.

“I’m taking you both to wait at the station for your alpha to arrive,” the new cop informed them. A brief flash of confusion crossed the beta cop’s face, but she didn’t question her superior.

“He’s meeting us here,” Neil said.

The alpha cop smiled. “Oh, I already told him the change of plans. He’s heading to the station too.”

It didn’t seem they had much of a choice, so Neil and Andrew followed the cop to an unmarked police car and got in the back seat.

“Here,” the cop said once he closed his own door. He handed them both a bottle of water. “Looks like you both could use it.”

Neil twisted the bottle cap off and took a sip while Andrew drank deeply from his own. After tossing the discarded bottle on the floorboards, Andrew leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. Neil thought about doing the same, only every time he blinked he saw bloody sheets and bone-white fingers. Instead he watched buildings pass by unseeingly, lights blurring together in the darkness.

His mouth felt dry, so he drank a little more water. He drifted for a little while. Everything felt a little fuzzy. Neil blinked, trying to clear his vision. The lights outside had mostly disappeared and he suddenly realized they’d driven out of the city.

“Where are we?” he asked, words slurring together. He glanced at Andrew, saw his head nodding over his chest, fast asleep.

The cop eyed him from the rear-view mirror.

“Nighty night, now,” he said.

Alarm splintered through the fog, but it was too late. Neil’s head flopped backwards, and he knew no more.

*******

Neil woke in an unfamiliar room. The walls were bare and white, decorated by a single generic painting of a mountain and a mounted clock that read 10:27pm. That couldn’t be right. They’d left the hospital just past 8. The hospital. Andrew.

Neil jerked upright. Or rather, he tried to. His wrists and ankles were wrapped in padded restraints, secured to the sides of the bed he lay in. Someone had changed his bloody clothing. Now he wore a simple white t-shirt and baggy, grey pants. Even his socks were gone. Panic punched through Neil like a battering ram. It stole his breath for a moment. All he could think of were the traffickers, of waking up in a cage. He struggled fruitlessly for several minutes, yanking and pulling on the restraints with all the strength he possessed. It did no good.

The door to the room opened. A privacy curtain obstructed Neil’s view until the person stepped to the foot of his bed.

“Hello Nathaniel,” Riko said.

Panic abruptly collapsed into something deeper, into something Neil couldn’t put a name to. It was beyond fear. It existed somewhere deep inside Neil that he’d hidden away, reserved for monsters that wore his father’s face. Riko didn’t wear that face, but he knew Neil’s name. That was enough.

“Where am I?” Neil asked in a much calmer voice than he’d expected to produce.

Riko made a show of glancing around before smiling and spreading his arms in mock greeting. His ever-present shadow, Jean Moreau, settled silently behind him, gaze on the ground.

“Welcome to Easthaven, premier Omega Rehabilitation Center of the East coast.” Riko dropped his arms but not his smile. “It seems the city’s finest were a little mixed up about the two of you not having a pack. Given everything, this seemed like the best place for you to go while I help them sort it out.”

Neil’s pulse pounded. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” He jerked hard against the restraints.

Riko laughed. “Like I’d want to. That one’s been spoiled goods for years. Speaking of which, I do hope he enjoyed his little family reunion.” He grinned cruelly. “It was surprisingly easy, convincing Drake to contact Luther. All I had to offer was a little legal assistance. His little brother must be quite the fuck.”

Blood rushed through Neil’s ears as the meaning behind Riko’s awful words sunk in.

“I’m going to kill you,” Neil said in a low voice. “You are dead.”

“You truly are your father’s son,” Riko said, not looking at all concerned. “It threw me off at first, since you smelled like a beta. But now I’m sure. You are every bit the purebred omega bitch I paid for. And it’s about time you came home.”

Neil stared at him, confusion warring with his anger. “What the hell are you talking about? My family never joined Evermore. That’s never been my home.”

Riko barked out a laugh. “That’s precious. You don’t know, do you?” He turned to Jean. “He doesn’t know.” When he faced Neil again, the humor faded from his eyes.

“You belong to me, Nathaniel. Just like your father, and just like your mother. Evermore has always been your home. Running didn’t change that.”

“We didn’t…” Neil's breathing faltered. “My father was doing business with your pack. That doesn’t mean anything. We didn’t run from _you_.”

“Wrong,” Riko spat, stepping forward. “You did run from me. Because you were meant to be mine. Why do you think you were at Evermore that time? To play with kids your own age? No, no, no, Nathaniel. You were there for an audition. This.” He tapped the number on his face. “This would’ve been yours. Don’t you understand?” He leaned forward and Neil flinched away, pressing himself harder into the bed. “Kevin, my alpha. Jean, my beta. And Nathaniel, my omega.”

Horror washed out whatever Riko said next. Neil recognized the truth in his words, as much as he wanted to deny it. Holes, gaps in his mother’s story, in his own recollection, that Neil had either accepted or ignored for as long as he could remember. He drew in a shaky breath, forced himself to focus on whatever Riko was saying.

“It’s up to you to come home,” Riko said, curling his lip in disgust. “I could drag you back, but with all the public pressure you created, that would be a bit of a media nightmare. So here’s what’s going to happen, Nathaniel. You’re going to tell your good-for-nothing alpha that you’ve had a change of heart about being part of his little pack of degenerates. You’re going to willingly and graciously join Evermore. And you’re going to beg on your knees for my forgiveness. Are we clear?”

Neil stared at him. “Why the fuck would I do any of that, you disgusting piece of shit?”

Riko’s eyes flashed dangerously and Jean visibly flinched.

“Oh, you’ll do all of that,” Riko said. “And you’ll decide by tomorrow morning, because otherwise Andrew is going to get stuck here for quite some time. The staff here are used to omegas lying to get out of here. I’ve already told them all about his delinquent youth. They won’t believe a word he says. Oh, I forgot to mention.” He smiled again. Neil wanted to wipe it off his face. “There’s a renowned psychiatrist here who specializes in reenactment therapy. I’ve heard it can be a little traumatic, really toes that line between effective and cruel. I wonder what it would take to make him step over that line?”

Neil shook his head. Cold shivered down his spine. His head spun. He could barely think.

“Tick tock,” Riko said. He turned around to leave.

“You’re pathetic,” Neil breathed. “Can only get his way be threatening others. Can only get an omega by _buying_ him as a child. You’re a fucking joke. It’s no wonder your father wants nothing to do with you.”

Riko stopped. He turned around slowly.

“Jean, watch the door,” he said.

Neil could only struggle helplessly as Riko stuffed a rag in his mouth, climbed up onto the bed and shoved up his shirt. Neil yelled into the rag when Riko pulled out a knife and dragged it up and down the length of his abdomen. Down. Up. Down.

“Now you’ll never forget your place,” Riko said. And then he left. Jean stayed behind, a silent sentinel in the corner of the room.

Neil shuddered and trembled on the bed, struggling to breathe around the cloth. His chest burned. He didn’t think the cuts were deep, but he could still feel blood dripping down his sides, pooling in his belly.

How could he say no? How could he say yes? Minutes ticked by, mocking him. He knew he would do it. In the morning, Riko would return and Neil would accept his offer. What other choice did he have? It was no choice at all.

Somewhere around 2 in the morning Neil heard a commotion in the hall. He hadn’t been asleep, merely drifting in agonizingly circular thought-patterns, but the sudden loud voices drew his full attention. His distressed mind imagined something familiar about the voices. Only when the voices grew louder, grew clearer, he realized it wasn’t his imagination at all.

Neil yelled as loud as he could into the rag and banged his arms and legs against the bed railings. Jean stepped toward him, alarmed, indecision flickering across his face. The decision was made for him as moments later the door slammed open and the fury of a Pack Alpha barreled straight inside.

“You will step the fuck away from him right now if you know what’s good for you,” David growled, stepping menacingly toward Jean. Jean cowered and backed up several steps.

Renee walked in behind him. She walked straight past Jean, gave him an oddly disappointed look, then quickly unfastened the restraints on Neil’s ankles and wrists. Her eyes swept over the blood-crusted t-shirt and she asked him seriously, “can you walk?”

Neil nodded. He felt a little light-headed but otherwise okay as he climbed to his feet.

“Where’s Andrew?” he asked.

“We’ve already got him,” Renee assured him. “You were a little harder to find.”

Neil nodded again. He gave Jean a final glance and walked out of the room.

The staff gave them – David, mostly – a wide berth as they exited the facility. One of them scurried alongside for part of it, apologizing profusely, assuring David he had no idea how such a mix-up had occurred, expressing disbelief that Neil had been injured under their roof. David turned to him and without saying a single word, the man squeaked and backed quickly away.

“How did you find us?” Neil asked quietly as they stepped into the cool, night air. He felt like he could breathe for the first time in days.

“Subdermal tracking chip,” David said. “Normally they’re only activated during missions. When the two of you went missing from the hospital, we made an exception.”

Neil nodded. He’d forgotten about those. Some of them chose to get them as a safety precaution. It was how David had found Neil and Andrew after the river. Neil had declined, of course. He was suddenly, achingly glad Andrew had trusted enough to say yes to his own.

Matt greeted Neil with a somber nod before getting into his own vehicle and starting the engine. Dan gave him a tiny hug before following him and said, “I’m so sorry, Neil.”

Andrew was stretched out in the back seat of David’s truck, eyes closed, a wadded-up jacket bunched beneath his head. Neil climbed in beside him, careful not to jostle his legs. Renee twisted around from the passenger seat and glanced at Andrew, then Neil.

“He’s only sedated,” she told him. “We already talked to Abby and she assured us he’d come out of it in a few hours.”

“Okay,” Neil said.

Finally, they drove home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was awful. Time to go drink a bottle of wine and watch the happiest show I can find...
> 
> Also, we are pretty much at the halfway point for this story! I felt bad about the cliffhanger last time so I spent all day finishing this beast of a chapter. It sucked, but I promise there is softness and recovery ahead. Thanks for hanging in there with me!


	16. Chapter 16

Andrew slept the entire way home. Though desperately tired, Neil forced himself to stay awake to keep an eye on him. It felt like if he closed his eyes, for even one second, Andrew would be taken from him again. So he stayed up, digging his thumb into the edges of the fresh cuts on his chest every time he started to drift. In spite of Neil’s vigilant watch, Andrew barely stirred. And despite everything, he looked peaceful. Neil hoped he would sleep for a long time, because when he woke up, he knew that peace wouldn’t last.

They drove straight to Abby’s. Before even getting out of the truck, Neil spotted Nicky and Aaron waiting on the front steps. The door opened and Abby joined them a moment later.

Neil slid out of the truck, grimacing slightly as the cuts stretched and stung. He hadn’t looked at them yet. In the back of his mind, he already knew what he would find, so he would put it off as long as possible.

On the other side of the truck, David carefully pulled an unconscious Andrew from the back seat and carried him inside. Logically, Neil knew leaving Andrew in the truck until he woke up wasn’t an option. That didn’t stop his stomach from lurching hard at the sight. Part of Neil wanted to yell at David to put him down, yell at him not to touch Andrew without his permission. Enough people had done that already.

Nicky made an awful noise as he stepped up to Andrew, forcing David to pause. Nicky’s hands hovered over Andrew’s face, tracing the cuts and bruises that littered his skin. Aaron stood behind him, white as a ghost, staring at his twin like he’d never seen him before.

“I didn’t know,” Nicky whispered. He glanced at Neil, chin quivering as he took in the blood. He shook his head and looked back down at Andrew. “I didn’t know.”

“Let David take him inside,” Abby said, not unkindly.

Nicky nodded and stepped aside. When Neil walked past him and Aaron, he didn’t meet either of their eyes.

Neil hovered outside the bedroom while David and Abby situated Andrew. Abby quietly checked his pulse and peeked under the bandage on his temple, but otherwise left him alone. She draw the blankets up and tucked them gently around Andrew’s shoulders.

“The sedative will keep him under awhile longer,” Abby said. “After that wears off, I’m hoping he’ll just keep sleeping naturally. His body needs to rest.”

David nodded. He turned to Neil, looking unsurprised to see him standing in the doorway.

“You need to rest too. After Abby sees to you. And,” David continued, holding up a hand when Neil opened his mouth to protest. “I better not hear the words ‘I’m fine’ out of your mouth one more time tonight. Got it?”

Neil closed his mouth and nodded.

Abby led Neil into her home office, closing the door behind them for privacy. Neil felt numb as he stripped off the white t-shirt. The fabric had dried to his skin in a few places, and he felt the cuts reopen when it moved. He didn’t look down though. Abby’s face told him enough.

“Some days I think this pack will kill me,” Abby said softly as she carefully attended to Neil’s wounds. “Seeing what people have done, and are still doing, to my Foxes. I’m so sorry this happened, Neil.”

“I’m –“ Neil paused, catching himself. “I’ve had worse.”

Abby’s brow furrowed. “I know you have,” she responded quietly. She didn’t look up when she said it.

Neil checked on Andrew one more time before allowing Abby to usher him into the second guest bedroom. He nearly insisted he stay with Andrew, but he realized that upon waking, Andrew would not be pleased to have someone else in the room with him.

Aaron stopped him in the hall outside his room. He stood there, looking at the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. Eventually he looked up and in that moment, he looked more like Andrew than he ever had before. Neil had never seen such rage in his eyes until that moment.

“I’m glad you killed him,” Aaron said in a low voice. “That motherfucker deserved it.” And with that, he walked away.

Neil was too exhausted to shower, so he lay down, closed his eyes, and hoped futilely for a dreamless sleep.

*******

Andrew woke disoriented. He remembered getting into the cop’s car. He remembered drinking a bottle of water and then resting his head against the window to rest. Everything after that was a blank. Clearly, _something_ had happened, because he recognized this bedroom, this bed. He just didn’t know how he’d gotten here.

Someone had left on a small lamp on the dresser so Andrew could see. He glanced outside, found it still dark though he had no concept of time otherwise. He blinked, searching for the memory of arriving at the police station or meeting up with David. He came up blank. It simply wasn’t there.

Sitting up sucked. His body felt like one giant bruise and his head swam for a few seconds once upright. He paused on the side of the bed, feeling a bit bemused at the sight of his socked feet. He’d left the hospital in a pair of spare shower-shoes one of the nurses had found for him. He didn’t remember putting on socks.

Andrew padded slowly to the bathroom. He flipped on the lights and closed the door behind him, turning the lock. He stared at his reflection for a minute. Blood still crusted hair to the side of his head and the mess Drake had made of his face was jarringly apparent in the fluorescent light. Still, Andrew was less concerned with that than with the unfamiliar clothes he wore. Someone had changed his clothes since leaving the hospital. Someone had undressed him.

Andrew carefully lowered himself in front of the toilet and vomited. If asked, he would blame the concussion. That didn’t account for the feeling of his skin crawling or the overwhelming need to scrub the top few layers of it away. Once steady enough to stand again, he twisted on the shower and did exactly that.

As hot water beat against his stinging skin and blood curled gently around his toes before disappearing down the drain, Andrew’s mind did its best to flash between the past and present, to remind him of all the other times he’d been in this exact position. At one point he leaned his forehead against the tiles and cycled through Bee’s grounding techniques – sight, sound, smell, taste. Breathe. Remember to breathe.

He toweled himself down and dressed in clean clothes that someone had left on the dresser. Loose grey sweats and a hooded black sweatshirt. His clothes. He wondered if someone had retrieved his armbands from the hotel yet. The cleaning staff would be in for a bit of a surprise otherwise.

The rest of the house was silent. Andrew made his way to the kitchen, wondering if Abby had restocked any of her decaf coffee. Finding David sitting at the kitchen table nursing a bottle of scotch didn’t surprise him, so Andrew grabbed a glass from the cupboard and sat down across from him. David poured him a small amount, watched him knock it back, then poured another.

“What happened after the hospital?” Andrew asked. He sipped at the scotch. It burned against his split lip.

David downed his own glass twice more before explaining what had occurred to the best of his knowledge. There were parts missing, particularly what had gone on between Riko and Neil. Andrew made a silent note to find out.

“The cops want to talk to both of you again,” David said a few minutes later. “I’ve already told them they will have zero contact with either of you without a lawyer present, and given the ‘mix-up’ from last time, they will be driving their incompetent assess to Palmetto to do so.”

Andrew stared at the amber liquid in his glass. He tried not to think about how, if just a little darker, it would match the bottle that had been smashed over his head.

“They’re calling it self-defense,” Andrew said. It wasn’t a question. They hadn’t arrested Neil, after all.

David nodded. “From what I’ve been told, yes. That’ll be up to a judge though. You should know there will probably be a trial.”

Part of Andrew wanted to shrug. Another part of him wanted to hurl his glass across the room. He settled on doing nothing at all.

“Phil Higgins,” Andrew said. “They’ll want to talk to him.” He paused. “It wasn’t an issue before. It is now.”

David just nodded and said, “okay.”

Aided by scotch and exhaustion, Andrew managed to sleep a few more hours. When he woke again, his mind decided to show off its ability for perfect recall by playing and replaying the previous day’s events. Eventually he gave up trying to drift back off and got up.

He showered again. He’d already ruined the bandages on his head and hands, so he peeled them off and tossed them carelessly in the garbage. He examined the stitches – he’d needed them in both places – finding his palms especially swollen now, after multiple showers. He had also popped a single stitch. Andrew picked at it for a second before forcing himself to stop. He’d let Abby to see to it later.

This time he found Abby, Bee, and Nicky crowded around the table in the kitchen. Neil stood at the stove, staring idly out the window while bacon popped and sizzled in a frying pan. All conversation ceased the moment Andrew stepped in the room. Bee offered a small smile while Nicky failed miserably not to look stricken at the sight of Andrew’s face. Neil simply glanced over his shoulder, expression carefully blank, before returning his attention to the bacon.

Andrew ignored all of them. He poured himself a cup of coffee, loaded it up with cream and sugar, and took the empty seat next to Bee. He sipped his coffee, not saying anything, not wanting to say anything, and wondered which one of them would speak first.

Abby got up at one point, disappearing briefly before returning with an armful of supplies. She laid everything out in front of her before reaching out a hand and giving Andrew an expectant look. One at a time, Andrew let her see to his swollen hands. The worst of the damage was on his palms, so once rebandaged, he at least had full use of his fingers.

Bee struck up a frivolous conversation while Abby worked, clearly trying to redirect everyone’s attention, though Andrew didn’t think it did much good. Nicky stared the entire time, flinching and clenching his jaw. When he did respond to the conversation, he was distracted and quiet. Andrew didn’t like this version of Nicky, but he also didn’t have the energy nor the inclination to attend to it.

Eventually, everyone except Neil migrated to another room, leaving Andrew alone with Neil for the first time since the hotel room. Neil had finished cooking and twisted off the stove, now just standing and staring silently out the window. Andrew pushed his coffee aside and stood up. He stepped close to Neil, though he left over a foot between them.

“Neil,” he said.

Neil jumped as if startled and turned around quickly. Unlike everyone else, his eyes didn’t sweep over the cuts or linger on a particular bruise. His eyes immediately found Andrew’s and stayed there.

“Andrew,” Neil said.

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked.

Neil blinked. “Nothing. I’m just… Nothing. Andrew…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t –” he paused. “What happened… What he did, I –” A full body-shudder worked its way through him. “I’m sorry.”

Andrew regarded him for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure what Neil was apologizing for, but he knew it wasn’t warranted. There was plenty of blame to go around and Andrew would assign it as needed – none of it belonged to Neil.

“There’s no point apologizing for things that have nothing to do with you,” Andrew said. “Drake was part of my life long before you came along.”

Neil flinched. “I know that, I’m just – if I hadn’t convinced you to go, he wouldn’t… He wouldn’t have…”

“There’s also no point playing the what-if game. And it’s not my job to make you feel better about it. That’s why Bee is here.”

Neil just stared, looking completely deflated.

“What did Riko do to you?” Andrew asked. Neil looked fine now, but according to David they’d found him covered in blood, bound, and gagged. There was nothing fine about that.

Neil shook his head and started to turn away. “It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing.”

“Don’t,” Andrew said. He placed a hand on the counter, preventing Neil from turning further. “No more lies, remember? Tell me what he did.”

Neil closed his eyes briefly. “Okay,” he said. “Not here though.”

*******

They decided to go on a walk. Every part of Andrew ached fiercely, but he couldn’t stand the idea of sitting around all day while everyone tip-toed around him. Plus, he knew from experience that the soreness would only increase so he might as well stretch out while he could.

Neil walked silently beside down the mostly deserted residential street, lost in his own head. It took about twenty minutes before he finally said anything.

“He arranged everything,” Neil said, gaze settled in the distance. “Luther, Drake, the cop taking us to Easthaven.”

After a moment, Andrew said, “getting his revenge, then.”

Neil bit his lip and gave an aborted shake of his head. “No, I – well, that’s part of it. That’s what I thought at first too. There’s more.”

They walked silently for a few blocks.

“Tell me,” Andrew said.

Neil took a shaky breath. “I told you how I was there, at Evermore, when I was a kid. Right before my mom and I ran. I thought it was about the money, about getting away from my father. It was, but… They _sold_ me.”

Andrew clenched his hands and Neil continued.

“Not just to the Moriyamas. To Riko. I was going to… belong to him. Like Kevin. I would’ve had a number on my cheek, just like him. And since he wanted me as his omega, that means…” Neil stopped. He stared at the ground, breaths coming slightly too fast.

Deep-seated anger stirred in Andrew’s gut. He could well imagine what a tempting target a young, abused omega would have been to someone like Riko. Imagining that omega with Neil’s face? It made him want to punch something.

“If David and the others hadn’t showed up, I would’ve gone with him,” Neil continued quietly. “I couldn’t let him hurt you. Not again.” Finally, he looked up, meeting Andrew’s gaze with a fierce expression.

Andrew didn’t often struggle to contain his emotions. He had a lifetime of practice stuffing them down into a silent, hidden box in the corner of his mind. Maybe it was newly resurfaced trauma, maybe it was shock from yesterday’s events, or maybe it was just Neil. Either way, he surprised himself by turning toward Neil and grabbing his shirt collar in a tight, white-knuckled hold. Neil stared at his arm for a moment, then back up at Andrew’s face. He didn’t move to free himself.

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew ground out. “You do _not_ get to sacrifice yourself for me. You’re supposed to have better survival instincts than that.”

Neil shook his head. “You know I’m not going to promise that. No lies, right?”

Andrew let him go and took a step backward. He couldn’t figure out who he was more furious with. They stared at each other for an eternity.

“David said you were covered in blood,” Andrew said finally. “What did he do?”

Neil’s hands raised unconsciously to his abdomen. He swallowed heavily before glancing around. The neighborhood was quiet and sleepy in the early hours, but he still turned his back on the nearest house before slowly pulling up his shirt.

Andrew said nothing as he peeled off the bandage that started above Neil’s bellybutton and stopped just below his heart. The cuts were shallow, enough to cause pain without requiring stitches, and enough to convey their ugly message both now and in the scar that would eventually form. Riko had marked Neil with the roman numeral ‘IV’.

“Guess he didn’t have time to arrange a tattoo, so this was the quick and easy way,” Neil said. Despite his attempt at humor, he had his head turned to the side, jaw clenched as he very purposefully did not look down.

“It means nothing.” Andrew yanked the bandage out of Neil’s hand and carefully pressed it back over the angry, red lines. He pulled Neil’s shirt down and placed a finger underneath Neil’s chin, pressing in slightly. “It means nothing,” he repeated.

Neil shuddered softly. “He knows who I am. You warned me he’d find out. Turns out Riko knows more about me than I do.”

“Riko can go fuck himself,” Andrew said. “Neil.” He pressed his finger down a little harder, turning Neil’s defeated, desperate expression toward him. “You’re letting him win. Don’t.”

“I’m trying,” Neil replied. “Just… how?”

That, Andrew did not have a simple answer for. He let his finger linger on Neil’s chin for another few seconds before withdrawing it.

“Fight back,” Andrew finally said. He looked down, glancing at his bandaged palms. “When it happens again, keep fighting.”

“Andrew…” Neil’s voice trailed off. He understood now. Andrew didn’t like that he understood so he turned away and walked back to the house with Neil trailing silently behind.

*******

Despite an instinctual urge to lock himself away, Andrew spent most of the day surrounded by others. Kevin and Robin showed up at one point, and eventually their entire group found themselves crowded in the living room at Abby’s, binge-watching movies and consuming more junk food than was likely legal. Neither Andrew or Neil interacted much, but the others seemed content (or at least pre-warned) to not push. And surprisingly, they didn’t.

Bee took off shortly after breakfast. She’d pulled Andrew aside privately, seeing if he wanted to talk. He didn’t – not yet. Bee simply smiled, told him to call her anytime, day or not, and gifted him with a new tin of his favorite hot chocolate.

The only actual confrontation that first day came from an unsuspecting source – Aaron. Partway through the afternoon, Andrew found himself drifting, barely able to stay awake. His various aches and pains had also settled more deeply into his bones by that point, and he found himself downing one of the pain pills they’d loaded him up with at the hospital. He didn’t like the groggy, soft feeling that came along with it, but he figured he’d sleep through most of it anyway. And really, it just felt good not to hurt.

“Why did you stay with them?”

Andrew replaced the cap on the pill bottle before turning around to face Aaron. They stood in the kitchen, facing each other, twins that weren’t really twins at all.

“You told Uncle Luther,” Aaron said, face twisting. “I heard him telling the cops about it. Andrew, that’s when we were _thirteen_. You told mom and I you wanted nothing to do with us. Just… what the fuck? Why the fuck would you stay? You chose _that_ over your family?”

“Fuck off,” Andrew said. He couldn’t do this right now, not with anger simmering underneath his skin. He started to walk past him. When Aaron grabbed for his arm, Andrew jerked out of the way. The quick movement sent a stab of pain up his spine and that pissed him off even more.

“_No_,” Aaron said. “’Fuck off’ – that’s the first thing you ever said to me. Remember? You don’t get to do that to me again. Not about this!”

“Fine.” Andrew focused a perfectly blank stare on Aaron. “You want to know what Drake said to me when he found out I had a twin? Do you want to know that he whispered to me about what we’d look like in bed together? What we’d sound like?”

Aaron’s face drained of color.

Andrew kept going. Now that he’d started, the words didn’t want to stop. “I thought getting sent off to juvie would solve the problem. It would have, if anyone took omegas seriously. Nope, they said, he has a good alpha influence in his life – let them deal with it.”

“Why didn’t you come to us?” Aaron said. His voice cracked halfway. “Mom was fucked up, but not like that.”

Andrew let him think about it for a moment. He’d already answered his own question, after all.

“Luther didn’t believe you,” Aaron said slowly.

“Only way I could’ve moved to a new pack was with an alpha’s permission,” Andrew said. “Legal system – two. Me – zero.”

Aaron stared as awful realization settled on his face. His expression darkened. “Uncle Luther left you there. He _knew_, and he fucking left you there.”

“And now we’re all caught up.” Andrew moved to walk past him again and this time Aaron let him.

“Andrew, I… Fuck.”

Andrew paused, back facing his twin.

“If Neil hadn’t killed him, I would have,” Aaron said. “You know that right? Whatever fucked up shit has happened between us… you’re still my brother.”

“Okay,” Andrew said. He believed him.

*******

Andrew woke halfway through the night again, heart pounding in his chest and sweat pouring down his back. He climbed to his feet slowly. He waited until his pulse steadied to a semi-normal rhythm then he stripped down and took another shower. He felt halfway normal by the time he dried off and dressed in soft, clean clothes.

He repeated the prior night’s ritual and headed to the kitchen in search of coffee. He didn’t find David there this time, but he did see the dim, blue glow of the tv from the living room. After putting on a pot of coffee, Andrew wondered into the living room and saw Neil stretched out on the floor in front of the sofa, a pillow pushed beneath his head and another hugged to his chest. His eyes flickered up to Andrew.

“Late night tv sucks,” Neil said. “Abby really needs Netflix.”

Andrew snorted softly. Without explaining, he took the remote from Neil and flipped the tv to the right input. Neil’s eyes were comically large as he took in the multitude of apps, including Netflix, he now had access to.

“Oh,” he said.

They drank decaf coffee and watched nonsense reality shows until neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer. Andrew didn’t feel inclined to move, so he lay back on the sofa and tugged a blanket over himself. Still sitting on the floor, Neil realized Andrew meant to sleep there and climbed to his feet.

“I guess I’ll go to bed then,” Neil said. He started to turn away, only to pause and look down at Andrew’s fingers holding onto the edge of his sweatshirt.

“Don’t be stupid,” Andrew said.

“Oh,” Neil said again. He grabbed another blanket and curled back up onto his spot on the floor.

In minutes, they were both asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little angst, a little fluff, a (somewhat belated) Fox holiday. As always, thank you for all the lovely, thoughtful reviews!!!

“Hey man, mind if I join you?”

Neil looked up from tying his shoelaces to find Matt standing in the entryway, already wearing running clothes and holding two bottles of water. Matt smiled, halfway between hopeful and hesitant.

Neil kind of did mind. He used his runs to clear his head and stop thinking. No way would that happen with someone else – especially Matt – there. Neil figured it would be rude to ignore him however, so he shrugged and didn’t protest when Matt followed him outside.

He and Andrew had returned to the shared house last night, after three days spent convalescing at Abby’s. She’d insisted on keeping Andrew there to monitor his concussion, but Neil secretly thought she’d been giving them an excuse to avoid everyone else. Not that it did much good, as most of them had turned up at her place at one point or another anyway. Still, he appreciated the thought.

Matt jogged silently beside him for a good twenty minutes before they both slowed to a walk and Neil accepted the offered bottle of water. The cuts on his chest stung a bit from the sweat. They had finally closed though, and the scabs had recently started to itch fiercely. Catching him at it for the dozenth time yesterday, Abby had threatened to fit Neil’s wrists with the cones dogs wore home from the vet if he didn’t cut it out.

“How are you doing with everything?” Matt finally asked.

Neil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been waiting for that question since Matt’s request to join him. His response now was the same as it had been while bloody and barefoot outside Easthaven.

“I’m fine,” Neil answered. He took off at a jog before Matt could respond.

“Dang, you’re fast,” Matt said the next time they slowed. “I thought I was in shape, but apparently I have some catching up to do. Have you always been a runner?”

Oh, the irony. Neil shook his head. “Only off and on. Helps me not think.”

Matt accepted the mild rebuff with a smile.

“I get it.” He scratched his head. “I wanted to check in with you though and I figured you’d hate it less if no one else was around.”

“Oh.” Neil really didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t used to people checking in on him at all. Not until recently, at least.

“So, fine though you may be, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here – all of us are here – for whatever you need right now.” Matt paused. “You and Andrew both.”

“You actually mean that?” Neil said, trying not to let the doubt creep into his voice. He apparently failed, because Matt gave him a pained look.

“Of course I do,” he insisted. “Jesus, I never would’ve thought… It sucks. It really fucking sucks. All of it.” He chewed on his lip for a second. “Certainly explains a lot though.”

Neil bristled immediately. He opened his mouth, but Matt beat him to it.

“That’s not what I mean,” he cut in, holding up a placating hand. “Andrew is Andrew, no matter what. Just like you’re you and I’m me, ineloquent explanations and all. I’m talking about why he’s here. Why he does what he does for the pack.”

Neil’s anger fizzled out. It made sense – of course, it made sense. Neil would’ve come to the same conclusion eventually as well, only he’d been doing his best not to think about any of that the past few days.

“Mind if I tell you a story?” Matt asked.

Neil shrugged.

Matt took a deep breath. “Okay, so, when I was a young I lived with my dad. He was super into partying, so I got into it as well. Drinking, drugs – the hard shit, man.”

Despite himself, Neil glanced out the corner of his eye at Matt. Matt seemed like the quintessential golden-boy. He couldn’t picture him strung out on anything.

“I had this group of friends when I was 15,” Matt told him. “One of my best friends, Ben, was an omega. Anyway, we partied together. All the time. There was this one night… I don’t even remember what we took. We were out of it for days. People coming in and out of the house.” He paused and cleared his throat before continuing. “Ben went into his first heat and got attacked. I was on the other side of the room, but I was too fucked up to do anything about it.”

Matt was quiet for a few minutes, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. Neil didn’t say anything either. What could you say to something like that?

“You wanna know what’s even more fucked up?” Matt finally said. “The alphas that attacked him were only charged with a misdemeanor, because he was in heat. Apparently they ‘couldn’t be held accountable for their own actions in the face of biology’. That’s an actual law. Such a load of bullshit.” Matt took a deep breath. “But yeah, that’s why _I’m_ here. After that, I moved in with my mom, got clean, heard down the grapevine about Palmetto. Moving here was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

They finished walking home in contemplative silence. Matt seemed a bit distant after telling his story and Neil quietly wondered how many of the others here had stories like Matt, like Andrew. David probably knew, at least in parts. Neil didn’t envy him having to shoulder that knowledge.

Downstairs, Andrew was still asleep on the couch. They’d developed a routine the past few nights of either waking halfway through the night or simply not going to sleep at all, until both of them eventually passed out in front of the tv. Despite the open room, Andrew always seemed to sleep better the second half of the night. Before they had even arrived home, Neil texted Nicky and forbade anyone from entering the bottom story without an explicit go-ahead. Surprisingly, Nicky hadn’t argued and promised to let everyone else know.

Neil took a minute to consider if Andrew looked any better than yesterday. The bruises on his face had taken on a greenish-yellow tinge around the edges, which meant they were healing. He assumed the less visible injuries were healing as well. All good things.

Neil showered and dressed. He came out to find Andrew yawning and stretching, looking impossibly young with his pale hair mussed and the imprint of a pillow on his cheek. He climbed slowly to his feet, wincing, and started to walk past Neil to the bathroom.

“Hey,” Neil said, grabbing one of his sleeves as he passed. Andrew paused and gave him an expectant look. “Take your pain meds if you need them.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow in response, removed his sleeve from Neil’s grasp, and continued to the bathroom without saying a word. The shower twisted on a minute later.

For whatever reason, Andrew seemed intent on not taking any pain medication unless absolutely necessary, which was completely beside the point. Abby had told him multiple times to keep to a schedule – it went in one ear and out the other. There was no way Andrew would let Neil get away with pulling that, however, so Neil was determined to badger him about it as often as he needed to.

Neil fetched coffee and a protein bar from the kitchen, and returned to find Andrew sitting on the couch, staring at his armbands like they’d personally offended him. Renee had gone back for them, after everything. Neither the police nor hotel staff had discovered them – which was probably for the best seeing as they were full of knives – and she was able to retrieve them without issue.

Without acknowledging Neil, Andrew picked one of the bands up and started pulling it up his left arm. Neil saw the problem immediately. The bands themselves fit, but the sheaths underneath kept catching on the bandages wrapped around Andrew’s palms. Andrew made a sound of annoyance and started over.

“You’re going to ruin the stitches,” Neil informed him. “Again.”

Andrew flicked him an unamused look. When he started over for the third time, Neil huffed and took the other band off the coffee-table.

“Let me help,” Neil said.

Andrew’s hands stilled. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he looked up. Even though he didn’t say it, Neil could feel his uncertainty.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Neil fingered the soft black material that safe-guarded one of Andrew’s biggest secrets. “Besides, I’ve already seen them.”

It took Andrew awhile to respond, but finally he did, nodding stiffly and grunting out “fine”.

Neil scooted minutely closer. He held up one of the bands, stretching it as wide open as it could go, and carefully slipped it over Andrew’s waiting hand. He gently tugged and pulled until it covered his forearm from wrist to elbow. It was impossible to miss the thin, white scars littering Andrew’s skin, but he didn’t linger and made sure to keep any accidental touches light and quick. Neil repeated the process with Andrew’s other arm, and then it was done.

As Neil sat back, Andrew let out a tiny breath. Neil would’ve missed it had he been any further away. He didn’t miss much when it came to Andrew though.

Andrew perched on the windowsill and lit a cigarette before propping open the window. Cool air filtered in, settling on Neil’s face along with Andrew’s smoke.

“You’re not going to ask?” He sounded mild and uninterested, as Andrew often did. Looking just a little closer however revealed the line of tension running down his back and the way he kept tapping a finger against his leg. He cared, whether or not he would voice it.

Neil watched him for a moment. “Not unless you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to do anything,” Andrew retorted with zero heat. Then, “one question. And I’ll decide whether to answer it or not.”

Neil nibbled at his protein bar and drank half a cup of coffee before he finally knew what he wanted to ask. He waited for Andrew to light another cigarette, and said, “Why do you hide them?”

Andrew paused with the cigarette halfway to his mouth. Clearly it wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. He thought about it for a bit.

“It’s not because I’m ashamed of them, if that’s what you’re asking,” Andrew explained. He kept his eyes focused outside. “But people don’t look at scars like that and see ‘choice’. I don’t need anyone’s pity, including yours.”

“You’ve seen my scars,” Neil said. “I don’t have it in me to pity anyone.”

Andrew hummed softly in response.

Neil glanced down at his own arms before quietly saying, “I’m glad you have them, if that’s how you survived.”

Andrew’s gaze slid to him, silent and assessing. In the end, he didn’t respond and they both went about their day, scars and all.

*******

Christmas approached quickly. Neil couldn’t remember the last time he celebrated a proper Christmas and so he felt a little baffled by the forced amounts of good cheer, decorations, and baking that was going on inside the house. Nicky seemed especially intent on celebrating as hard as humanly possible, though he still looked guilty at the sight of his cousin and Neil had caught him discreetly wiping his eyes on more than one occasion. No one blamed Nicky but Nicky. Neil didn’t have it in him to attend to someone else’s misplaced guilt, though, so he hoped Nicky would figure it out in time.

Everyone decided to stay put instead of traveling. Neil didn’t really get why. It wasn’t like having more people around would help them heal any faster or change anything that happened. He supposed it counted as moral-support and most people drew comfort from it. Neil wasn’t most people though, and he continued to feel uncomfortable even as he quietly accepted it.

A few days before the actual holiday, Neil went with Kevin, Andrew, and Nicky to pick out a Christmas tree for the house. Andrew looked like a miniature snowman bundled in his puffy jacket, scarf, gloves, and a hat. He’d finally gotten the last of his stitches removed and the hat and scarf hid most of the remaining bruises on his face. For a little while, Neil could almost pretend things were normal.

Neil found himself trailing silently beside Kevin through row after row of trees. Andrew dragged Nicky off to find hot chocolate, leaving Neil alone with Kevin and contemplating having a conversation he’d avoided for the past two weeks. Well, really, the last six months, but things had changed recently.

“Do you remember playing with a red-haired boy at Evermore when you were 11?”

Kevin cast him a critical look. “How would I remember something as random as that?”

Neil took a breath, released it. “Because you were also there when that boy’s father murdered someone and chopped them into pieces in front of you.”

Kevin jerked to a stop. He turned fully to Neil, disbelief warring with horror on his face.

“How do you know about that?” he asked in a near-whisper.

Neil met his eyes. “How do you think?”

Kevin’s jaw dropped. “No. Tell me you’re not him. Tell me you’re not Nathaniel.”

“Don’t call me that,” Neil snapped. He hated hearing that name. “That’s not my name anymore.”

“Fuck…” Kevin ran a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Even with different hair.” His tone changed as he stared hard at Neil. “Why the hell would you come here? And then you literally threw yourself in Riko’s path? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Neil shook his head. “I gambled on him not recognizing me either. He didn’t. At first.”

Kevin swallowed harshly. “He knows, then. I’m surprised he didn’t take you right away. Legally, he could have.”

The sick feeling that had lived in the center of Neil’s gut since Easthaven pulsed and festered with Kevin’s words.

“It’s true? What he said?” Neil forced himself to breathe. “My parents sold me to Evermore?”

Kevin regarded him for a moment. “You really didn’t know?” At Neil’s silent acknowledgment, he continued. “Your father did it. It was a direct deal, no bidding process involved. Your mother wasn’t in the room, so I don’t know how involved she was.”

“You were there?” Neil asked.

Kevin nodded. “Part of Riko’s and my education.”

Neil could only stare at the nearest tree for several seconds, trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s why my mom and I ran, even if I didn’t know it at the time. I was worried about one of you recognizing me because of the connection with my father, but I didn’t know… that…”

“That you belong to him?”

“Fuck you,” Neil retorted angrily. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Kevin laughed softly without a single trace of amusement. “I’m the last person you should be offended by saying that. I was there a lot longer than two days. Trust me, I know what it’s like to _belong_ to Riko.”

“At least you had the choice to leave. He could force me to go back at any time – he almost did – and what could I do about it?”

“A choice, you say.” Kevin narrowed his eyes angrily. “I only left after he almost crippled me, and since then he’s harassed me at every turn, made moves against my pack, and viciously attacked my friend. All to get me back.”

Neil crossed his arms. “It’s not only you he’s after now.”

Kevin looked upward before letting out an explosive breath. “There’s no legal recourse against his claim on you. Unless Neil Josten somehow becomes a real person, your best option is to run.”

“I’m done running,” Neil said. “Think of something else. What about the law that says an omega can’t choose their own pack? Isn’t it being challenged?”

“You can’t just change a law,” Kevin cut back with a hint of his usual arrogance. “And obviously I would know about it if the ORC actually made any headway.” He rolled his eyes and started walking, but Neil could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“You saw Jean,” Kevin said after they’d passed through a few more rows of increasingly indistinguishable trees. “At Easthaven, you saw him, right?”

Neil scowled. “Yeah, I saw him. He stood by and watched while Riko stuffed a gag in my mouth and carved lines on my chest.”

Kevin paled. “Jean didn’t choose to be there anymore than you or I. Riko had to restrain himself with me, most of the time, since we were so public-facing. With Jean, well, restraint is not a word I’d use to describe those interactions.”

Neil didn’t respond. Kevin could feel sorry for Jean all he wanted. It didn’t mean Neil had to.

They met up with Andrew and Nicky a short while later. Andrew had a steaming cup of hot chocolate cradled between his gloved hands and Nicky had apparently located the best tree in the entire lot all by himself. He sequestered Kevin to help him buy and pull it to the car, leaving Neil and Andrew to wander a bit on their own.

Neither of them felt the need to talk, so they simply walked slowly around, taking in the ornament and light displays while softly playing Christmas carols wafted in the background. Andrew periodically sipped his hot chocolate. At one point, he ended up with a tiny whipped cream mustache on his upper lip and Neil had the somewhat alarming urge to lick it off. He didn’t act on it, of course, but the idea fueled his thoughts until they met up with the others at the now tree-laden car.

*******

Christmas day rolled around with little fanfare and was spent in much the same manner as Thanksgiving. This time, David and Abby came to their house (and suspiciously, both arrived and left at the same time). Even Seth made a brief appearance, much to Kevin and Aaron’s dismay, though he remained uncharacteristically quiet and retired early with Allison.

They had too much food, too many drinks, suffered through every Die-Hard film, and even exchanged gifts. The last one surprised Neil – it hadn’t even crossed his mind to get anyone a gift, let alone that he’d get gifts from others. As his pile of random gifts grew, Neil’s bafflement grew in turn. How could this group of people who’d been strangers to him only yesterday, it felt like, treat him like part of their family? Neil didn’t understand, but he also didn’t poke too hard at the soft, quiet feeling in his chest. He’d figure out the name of it later.

Andrew also didn’t participate in the gift-giving, though he too ended up with an assortment of items to shoulder downstairs as the night deepened. Neil followed him down, yawning. As he dumped his presents on the dresser, a flash of metallic blue caught Neil’s eye and he turned to find a single, unopened package on his pillow.

Neil set aside the bow and tore through the shiny blue wrapping paper to reveal a folded hoodie. He shook it out and couldn’t help the wry grin that worked its way onto his face. The hoodie was black except for the tiny, white stick-figure dogs and cats chasing each other up and down the arms, around the chest, and even disappearing into the front pocket. Neil tugged the hoodie over his head and went to the back porch where he knew he’d find Andrew.

“I guess they didn’t make one as specific as ocelots and arctic foxes?” Neil greeted, settling on the ground beside him.

Andrew leaned his head back against the wall. “Didn’t want to blow your cover.”

Neil snorted softly. “Well, thank you. I didn’t get you anything though.”

“This is me being upset,” Andrew said with a perfectly calm expression.

An idea took form slowly and Neil pondered while Andrew finished his cigarette and snubbed it out on the pavement. It wasn’t a gift exactly, but it was something real.

“Abram,” Neil said softly. “Only my mother called me that, but it’s the only name that’s ever felt like it’s mine.”

“Abram,” Andrew repeated.

They continued sitting side by side awhile longer. At one point, Neil’s pinkie finger accidentally brushed Andrew’s and when he started to pull it back, Andrew responded by trapping Neil’s finger with his own.

They stayed like that for some time.


	18. Chapter 18

Healing is not a linear process.

Andrew knew that – how could he not? And yet over the following several weeks, he kept waiting to feel something akin to what he’d experienced before. Andrew hadn’t cried since he was twelve, but he felt in other ways, ways that often led him to a cold, bathroom floor with a razor pressed to his skin.

Neil watched him like a hawk. He’d of course made the connection between Drake and the scars. He told Andrew he didn’t pity him, which Andrew mostly believed – Neil had his own demons to contend with, after all. He still didn’t like that Neil knew.

He liked that the others knew even less. They didn’t tiptoe around exactly, nor did they go out of their ways to make everything seem normal. Andrew was observant enough to notice the quietly exchanged glances and carefully worded phrasing though. He knew what happened was all over the news. There was nothing careful about the way they worded things. And yet Andrew almost preferred the blunt crassness of it all. Why cushion the blow when it had already found its mark? The last thing Andrew wanted was to be treated like a victim.

The cops and lawyers showed up in waves. First they wanted his statement. Then they had a question. Then they needed some more information. Whenever it seemed like they might be done, his phone lit up again.

“How many times can they ask the same fucking questions?” Neil wondered, after one such visit. He and Andrew were sitting on the curb outside David’s house, waiting for them to finish up.

“Questions or jail-time,” Andrew replied.

Neil shot him a look but didn’t say anything else.

It took Nicky nearly a month to work up the nerve to talk to Andrew about it. Andrew could smell his guilt a mile away, and even though Nicky had been talking with Bee, he still carried it around like a boulder.

“I’m sorry my father is such a bastard,” Nicky blurted out one night. He and Andrew were the last ones up, both in the kitchen rummaging for late-night snacks.

“I never would’ve asked you to go there, if I knew,” Nicky continued. He sucked in a shaky breath. “I never would’ve even talked to him again, if I knew.”

Andrew snatched a yogurt out of the fridge and shut the door.

“You didn’t know,” he said, lifting a shoulder in a small shrug.

Nicky exhaled loudly before leaning his head back. “God, people are so fucked up. After everything I’ve seen here, I didn’t think anything could get to me like this… None of them were you though. You and Aaron, you’re the only family I have. At least the only ones that matter.”

Andrew took a bite of his yogurt, quietly thinking.

“I’d try to hug you right now if I didn’t think you’d stab me with that spoon,” Nicky said.

Andrew considered. “I’d only make it a flesh wound. Probably.”

Nicky’s face split into a watery smile. “Aww. Coming from you, that’s practically a statement of love.”

“Don’t blame yourself for other people’s shit,” Andrew said, stopping Nicky as he was about to leave a bit later. “There’s no point.”

Nicky gave him a searching look. “You’re secretly soft and squishy on the inside, aren’t you?”

Andrew pointed the spoon at him in response and Nicky scurried away.

Andrew resumed his appointments with Bee a week before Christmas. Aside from that first day, she hadn’t pushed at all, and seemed only genuinely happy he’d decided to book time with her. They spent most of the first session talking about everything else they could think of to talk about, including Bee’s favorite holiday desserts. Bee waited for Andrew to broach the topic of his attack, and when he finally did, she assured him that feeling nothing was perfectly normal. His brain would allow him to process it eventually, but there was no timeline and certainly no correct way to do it.

*******

“How would feel about talking to someone from the Omega Rights Commission?”

Andrew finished tidying up his work-station before slapping a towel over his shoulder and turning to David.

David raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Andrew crossed his arms and raised a brow in return.

“Yeah, okay, I get it. But this isn’t just some donate to our campaign, sign a spreadsheet kind of visit.” David paused. “They’re working on a class-action lawsuit of some kind.”

Andrew continued puttering around, cleaning up a few other remnants from that evening’s dinner service. He was mildly interested, despite himself.

“I’m listening,” he said as he started to sweep.

David snorted. “Clearly. I don’t have a lot of details, just that they’re going after something big and the guy I talked to thinks you and Neil be interested in hearing more about it.”

“Because of what happened,” Andrew commented, continuing to clean.

“Yeah,” David said, after a minute. “That would be my guess.”

Sometimes being a Fox was to be at constant war with himself. Part of Andrew wanted to slam the metaphorical door on this conversation, while another part quietly reminded him of why he and the others risked their lives over and over again. He sighed inwardly.

“I’ll listen,” Andrew said. “Doesn’t mean I’ll talk. And good luck convincing Neil. He’s more closed-off than I am.”

He glanced up after a moment when David didn’t reply, only to find David watching him with an expression halfway between amusement and exasperation.

“What?”

“Nope.” David shook his head. “Not saying a thing. Above my paygrade.”

Andrew gave him a look. “You don’t get paid.”

“And therein lies the problem,” he responded with another loud snort.

It turned out convincing Neil wasn’t that difficult after all. Andrew suspected he’d only agreed because Andrew had, but he kept that bit of insight to himself.

It was about midway through January when the ORC representative came for a visit. It surprised Andrew to find out he actually knew their visitor, or knew of, at least. They’d brushed shoulders at a number of pack conferences, including the one in Atlanta where they’d picked up Kevin not so long ago. Kevin knew him as well - in the form of an avid fan. Apparently if Kevin ever needed insider information about the ORC, this was his guy.

They agreed to meet at David’s, who made half an effort to clear off his dining room table for their guest. He showed up perfectly on time, smiling largely, sporting a perfect California tan and pristine white teeth. Andrew hated him a little immediately.

“Jeremy Knox,” the newcomer greeted warmly, offering his hand to everyone in turn. His smile didn’t even falter when Andrew ignored it. “I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”

“You’re the one that flew all the way here,” Neil said. David gave him a withering look and Neil shrugged.

They all settled at the table with coffee and cookies that looked suspiciously stale. Jeremy pulled out a notebook, pen, and hand-held recorder, which Neil zeroed in on immediately.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jeremy said. “It never goes on without your permission. And even if it does, it stays private.”

“You don’t do anything with it?” Neil asked doubtfully. “Then what’s the point of this?”

Jeremy smiled. “We use the information, but only after it’s scrubbed for privacy, and again, still only with your permission.”

“Um, okay…” Neil still looked skeptical. Andrew lightly kicked his foot underneath the table, earning him an annoyed glance.

“Alright, why don’t I tell you a little about myself and why I’m here, yeah?” Jeremy started. “As I said, I’m Jeremy. I’m an Advocate with the Omega Rights Commission. I’m also a member of the Golden Coast Trojans, and of course have crossed paths with your pack many times before, including working with your fearless leader here quite a few times.”

David offered up a small nod of acknowledgement.

“You’re not a lawyer?” Andrew asked, speaking up for the first time. Jeremy seemed awfully young to be a lawyer, but he’d assumed that’s who would handle something like this.

Jeremy grinned and shook his head. “Thankfully no. We have a whole team of those to handle the legal side of things. My role is finding and recruiting participants, and simply gathering their stories. That’s why I’m here – not to talk laws and policies and boring legal terms. Just to hear your stories, if you’re willing to share.”

He paused for several seconds, waiting to see if anyone had more questions before continuing.

“So let’s start with some history about the case. A few years ago, the ORC took up a case for a single omega father who was separated from his 4-year old daughter while traveling. He was sent back to his pack, while his daughter was mistakenly recorded as both independent and an orphan and ended up in foster care halfway across the country. She was too young to speak up, of course, and her father had no means of leaving his pack to go retrieve her, not that he even knew where she was.” He paused again. “In an even more unfortunate turn of events, the girl got sick. She needed a bone-marrow transplant, but with some rare genetics at work, they couldn’t find a match. It turns out her father was a match, but he didn’t find her until it was too late.”

“Jesus,” David muttered, running a hand down his face.

Jeremy nodded grimly. “If not for the law preventing omegas from leaving their packs without an alpha’s permission, she would’ve been quickly located, avoided foster care, and most importantly, been with her father when she got sick. The law prevented that, however, so our claim is that the law itself indirectly caused this young girl’s death.”

“How many people are participating so far?” Andrew asked, swirling the coffee around in his cup.

Jeremy’s smile was wide. “So far, 89. I said I don’t speak lawyer, but for a class-action lawsuit of this type, that is _huge_.”

They stayed quiet for a few minutes, digesting what Jeremy had said. Andrew already saw the connection to his own story, and while he didn’t want to share it, he could see why this might work. It was clever, challenging a law through not just a single tragic story, but a massive collection of stories that were all, at least in some way, the same.

“If they agree to participate, what does that mean exactly?” David asked. “More trials and lawyers?”

“Nope, not at all,” Jeremy answered. “Technically you won’t have any legal responsibilities during the process. And technically we don’t even need to collect stories, like we have been. But stories are powerful, and it’s simply a matter of strength in numbers at this point. The more evidence we can provide, the more soundly we can prove how many individuals have been harmed by this.”

Neil picked at his fingernail, as he’d been doing for most of the conversation. “And if you win, omegas get the freedom to choose their pack?”

“They absolutely do,” Jeremy confirmed. “But not just that, because here’s the best part – we’re not just challenging a single component of the bill responsible for this law, we’re taking on DOFA itself.”

The Defense of Family Act, or DOFA, was passed more than three decades ago, Andrew knew, long before his own birth. In addition to the law preventing omegas from choosing their own packs, it also governed omega rights related to divorce, to custody of children, and even marital rape. It was the single most inequitable collection of laws in shifter history, and it had passed with flying colors because of Evermore’s influence.

“You actually think you have a chance of winning,” David said, staring at Jeremy.

“I actually think we have a chance of winning,” Jeremy replied with a smile.

They talked for awhile longer. Or rather, Jeremy and David did most of the talking while Neil and Andrew listened. Eventually, Jeremy sent them off to think it over, not pressuring in the least. He’d be around anyway, as he needed to travel down through Georgia and Florida before heading back up to Washington, DC later that month. He gave them both his card and said to call or text him anytime.

“You’re thinking about it,” Neil said as they drove home.

Andrew kept his eyes focused on the road. “You’re not?”

“No, I am, it’s just.” Neil paused, sounding frustrated. “I hid who I was for years. I hid being an omega. I hid from the Moriyamas. And now I’m supposed to spill it all for some glorified reporter?”

“Advocate,” Andrew said.

Neil huffed. “Advocate, whatever. You know what I mean.” After a couple minutes. “You’re really thinking about it? You don’t talk to anyone, especially not alphas.” He paused. “Although you do get super chatty around me.”

“Shut up.”

“But really. I can’t believe you’re actually going to talk to him,” Neil pressed.

“I never said I would talk to him. I said I’m thinking about it.”

Silence. “Huh?”

Andrew slid him a quick glance. “He said participation in a class-action lawsuit means no legal obligations. He needs a tagline, not a memoir.”

“Oh,” Neil said. “That’s… not so bad. I guess.”

Andrew left Neil to ponder that on his own until they arrived back at the house. Andrew killed the engine and they both sat there for a few minutes in silence.

“It would kind of be huge. If they won,” Neil said.

“Yeah,” Andrew agreed. “It would.”

*******

Andrew felt like a lot of his life could be blamed on inconvenient timing. He had that same thought again several days later as he drove home from work and a horribly familiar cramping sensation settled in his gut. He tightened his grip on the wheel and grit his teeth, breathing shallowly until it let up. Blowing out a breath, he silently cursed his own biology and pressed his foot down harder on the pedal.

He made a quick pit-stop, grabbing the usual cocktail of drugs from Abby but declining her invitation to stay. He felt like all he’d done lately was spend time in her spare bedroom, if not for his own malady then for someone else. The basement was probably separated enough from the others not to bother him. He’d ban them, curl up in his own bed, and ride it out like he always did.

Not interacting with the others wasn’t new behavior for Andrew, so no one noticed anything out of the ordinary when he breezed inside and headed straight for the stairs. No one except Neil, of course. Andrew felt his eyes on him as he walked past. He decided Neil was too observant for his own good.

“Out,” Andrew said, when he found Aaron and Nicky downstairs. They exchanged a quick look but left without arguing. Andrew sighed and pushed the hair back from his forehead, which was already damp with sweat. It always came on fast for him.

He paced restlessly. Movement helped alleviate the cramps, and he figured it would also help push the drugs into his system faster. Abby’s cocktail couldn’t stop a heat, of course, though it did help lessen the intensity. He’d take anything at this point. Anything to blur the razor-edged memories that threatened to take over anytime this happened. Especially now. Especially after –

Andrew rocked to a halt and forced himself to take a deep breath. He could feel himself spinning, and the heat had barely started.

He decided to take a shower. It seemed almost pointless, as he’d sweat through any clothes he wore that night. Still, it gave him something to focus on, at least momentarily. He stood under the spray until it ran cold and he started shivering. It didn’t last long. By the time he slipped into pajamas, beads of sweat were already gathering on his upper lip and brows.

Andrew lay down on top of the comforter on his bed. He didn’t mean to doze off, but the meds had finally started to kick in and suddenly he was jerking upright, belly twisting with another wicked cramp. For a slow, awful moment, all Andrew could feel was a mattress beneath him and pain inside him. He rolled off the bed, stumbling to his knees, and backed himself fully into a corner before enough awareness returned to remind him where he was. He exhaled shakily and pulled both knees to his chest, resting his head on them while he waited for his heart rate to normalize.

That was, of course, where Neil found him.

Since he hadn’t meant to sleep, Andrew had left the door open and Neil would be able to see his odd position on the floor just by walking past. He did, apparently, as he softly knocked.

“What do you need?” he asked.

Andrew didn’t respond because he didn’t know.

“Do you want me to go?” Neil asked quietly.

Andrew didn’t look up, but he could tell Neil hadn’t made a move to come any closer. Eventually, he shook his head.

“Okay,” Neil said. “I’ll be right back.”

He left and in the interim, Andrew managed to uncurl himself slightly, though he remained in his well-defended position against the wall. The logical part of his brain knew he had nothing to fear from anyone in this house. The baser, primal part of his brain, the one that governed heats, based his reactions on prior experience and didn’t believe he was safe for even a second.

“This might become a permanent ban, the way we’re going,” Neil said when he returned, arms filled with drinks and snacks. “No one will come down here until you say they can.”

Neil settled against the opposite wall, making sure Andrew had a clear path to the door. He commented on inane things every so often, though mostly he stayed quiet. The medication took the edge off Andrew’s symptoms, including his anxiety, and eventually he unfolded himself from the corner and climbed back into bed. He fell asleep in seconds.

Andrew didn’t want anyone around the next two days, including Neil. He could tolerate an occasional visit to offer water and food, though he sighed in relief whenever the door closed and Neil’s footsteps faded away.

Things let up on the fourth day, fading away as quickly as they had come on. Andrew was left mentally and physically exhausted. He felt itchy and uncomfortable like he always did after a heat, so he shifted and went on a solo jaunt through the woods before coming home and crawling back into bed.

“Stop hovering,” Andrew told Neil, who was hovering in the doorway.

Neil made a face. “I’m not. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t died.” He paused for emphasis. “It smells like something died in here.”

Andrew made a half-hearted attempt to throw a pillow at him, which Neil just watched.

“You know I’ve been actually shot before, right?” Neil said, unconcerned. 

“Are you looking to relive the experience?” Andrew muttered, stuffing his face into his pillow. It stunk of sweat and after a moment, he flipped over in frustration and threw that one at Neil as well.

“Laundry it is,” Neil said.

Neil hauled everything upstairs to the wash while Andrew settled on the couch and absently clicked through channels. Eventually he gave up and turned it off. He had just started to doze when Neil returned and sat on the floor near Andrew’s feet.

Andrew watched Neil for a little bit. Despite the exhaustion, he felt oddly… content.

“Better?” Neil asked, leaning his head back and meeting Andrew’s gaze.

Andrew didn’t know what he was asking exactly. Better now that the heat was gone? Better that he’d have clean sheets soon? Maybe just better in general. Either way, Andrew nodded.

“Better,” he agreed.


	19. Chapter 19

After a relatively quiet month, at least by Fox standards, it came as a surprise when David called a team meeting on a Monday evening in late January. He came to them, since most everyone was pre-gathered in their shared living quarters now anyway, and he didn’t come alone. Jeremy walked in after him, smiling and shaking hands, greeting some of the older Foxes like Dan and Matt that he was clearly acquainted with.

From his corner seat in the living room, Neil surveilled his entrance with a fair amount of wariness. He’d finally decided to talk with Jeremy only a few days previous, and though he’d only shared a vague outline of his story, it was still more than he’d told the rest of them, excluding Andrew.

A tiny voice in the corner of Neil’s mind occasionally whispered to him that he _could_ tell the others, if he wanted. Andrew trusted them, and Neil trusted Andrew. That in itself was an odd realization, as Neil couldn’t recall ever truly trusting anyone before. Even his mother hadn’t been privy to Neil’s full confidence, not really. Did he trust her to push him out of the way and take a bullet for him? Absolutely. Did he trust her enough to expose the stripped down, vulnerable version of himself that even Neil didn’t fully understand? Not so much.

The lot of them squished into the living room, chattering amongst themselves in a subdued way and quieting down quickly when David cleared his throat. Perched on the window ledge by himself, even Andrew turned half an eye toward the center of the room when David started to speak.

“As most of you know, there’s a regional Pack conference coming up in Atlanta in a couple of weeks. I’m fine with whoever wants to attend – no one’s getting pushed one way or another.” He paused, eyeing the room. “That being said, everyone that does go is going as a group. I’d prefer it if everyone stayed in groups of three or more, but two at the very least. Absolutely no one goes off on their own. Understood?”

Neil suspected, prior to what took place in December, such a mandate would’ve been met with a round of sarcastic groans and protests. Not today though. People either nodded, murmured ascent, or stayed quiet altogether. Neil glanced at Andrew to gauge his reaction only to find Andrew had turned his head back to the window.

“We’ve got a block of rooms reserved already,” Dan said to the group. “Once we know who all is going, I’ll split them up between everyone. Honestly, we probably over-booked, but I didn’t want to risk one or two of us in a room twenty stories away sharing a wall with an unfriendly pack.”

“You really think they’d go after us? Even there?” The question came from Aaron, who oscillated between silent and scathing in these sorts of meetings. To hear a calm, genuine question seemed to throw Dan off momentarily, and she blinked a couple times before responding.

“I think tensions are incredibly high right now,” she said. “And not just for us. The case Jeremy is working on has gained a lot of traction, very quickly, and packs are going to drawing the proverbial line in the sand. Will it go past posturing? I don’t know, but I don’t want to be caught by surprise.”

“It’s already gone past posturing though, hasn’t it?” Allison commented, hands clasped in front of her. “First Seth get’s hurt, then Andrew and Neil? Surely no one here thinks that’s a coincidence. That psychopath needs to be put down.”

Neil blinked in surprise. He’d never heard Allison say anything about suspecting Riko had anything to do with the fire. Andrew and Kevin had their own quiet suspicions, but he figured they’d kept those thoughts to themselves.

David frowned, crossing his arms. “The fire was ruled an accident – but.” He held up a hand to ward off protests. “I’m more than aware that might be complete bullshit. Which ties back to what Dan and I are saying. We are going to stay together and stay safe.”

They talked logistics then and Neil tuned out. He hadn’t left the boundaries of Palmetto since finding out about Riko’s claim on him. Riko hadn’t taken him immediately from Easthaven because he’d been trying to prove a point – and the asshole just liked to hear himself talk – but now, after losing hold of both Kevin and Neil? Neil didn’t know what he would do when they crossed paths again. If he tried to take Neil, would anyone actually be able to stop him?

Neil refocused his attention as Jeremy finally started to talk.

“I’m happy to talk with any of you about the ORC case,” Jeremy started, “but today I’m here representing my pack, and I’m here for a different reason.” He waited for everyone’s attention before continuing. “Kevin and I have been following a money trail for a while now. Now, it’s no secret that both legal and illegal bidding keep Evermore and its allies well-funded, but there’s another source, something so deeply hidden we’ve only heard rumors about it, and not even Kevin has any insider information about it.”

Neil sighed inwardly. He’d quickly come to realize Jeremy could be a bit… verbose. By a couple of the expressions around the room, he suspected others felt the same.

“Thanks to the interviews we’ve been doing, we finally figured it out though. Kevin?”

Sitting with his arms crossed, Kevin straightened up a little but kept his eyes focused on his lap.

“Evermore is running breeding farms,” Kevin stated bluntly.

Dan gasped and covered her mouth with a hand. Nicky looked sick to his stomach. Neil felt oddly unsurprised.

“They’re filling them with trafficked shifters,” Kevin continued. “Either those they catch the traditional way, or through back-door deals with rehabs and similar places. We’re talking alphas, betas, and omegas – no one is going to one of these by choice.”

Jeremy jumped back in. “The offspring are then being sold through mostly legal channels, disguised as orphans or voluntarily surrendered by their parents. That gives them legal credibility, less chance of drawing suspicion, and most importantly, the most bang for their buck.”

“And by offspring, you mean babies,” Allison said. “They’re selling babies.”

“Jesus…” Matt muttered, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. “Just when I thought the world couldn’t get more messed up.”

“Do we know where they are?” Dan asked. “The farms?”

“Not yet,” Kevin said. “We might be close to one of them.”

“But we have to tread lightly,” Jeremy added, glancing at Kevin. “Spooking them now would make the whole network go further underground and we’d be starting from square one.”

The conversation continued until late. David finally called an end to it, seeing as nothing would be resolved tonight, and headed off. The others slowly dispersed as well. Jeremy stayed behind to talk more with Kevin and a couple of the others, but Neil had heard enough.

He wandered downstairs, passing Nicky and Aaron who were viciously killing each other in a video game, and found Andrew standing on the patio. A flask dangled from his fingers and he took a sip as Neil settled against the wall beside him.

“If you’re coming to Atlanta, you need to tell David about Riko,” Andrew said, after several minutes had passed in silence. “He can’t protect you if he doesn’t know.”

Neil immediately opened his mouth to say he didn’t need protection, only the words died on his lips as he realized how untrue that was. As if sensing his unvoiced protest, Andrew scoffed quietly. He took another sip from his flask, offering it to Neil as an afterthought. Neil waved it away.

“I don’t drink,” Neil said.

“Because you might spill your secrets,” Andrew responded. “Aren’t we a little past that?”

Neil shrugged uncomfortably. “There are things I haven’t told you.”

“You don’t say,” Andrew said mildly. It wasn’t a rebuff exactly, just a statement of fact.

“I could’ve ended up somewhere like that,” Neil said after a few more minutes had passed. “Like one of those farms. When they caught me in Nashville, they implied…” He shook his head, not wanting to relive those memories. “I can’t imagine having to live like that. Getting forced to – ” Neil snapped his mouth shut so suddenly that he nearly bit his tongue in half. He hadn’t been thinking when he said that, not about what Andrew’s life _had_ been like for so many years. Maybe it wasn’t the same, but it was too close for comfort.

“Censorship isn’t a good look on you,” Andrew said, sounding supremely unconcerned.

Neil chewed on his lip. “I have a question.”

“So ask it.”

“How many foster homes were you in growing up?”

“Twelve,” Andrew answered immediately. He glanced at Neil. “Was that all?”

Neil hesitated before continuing. “Were any of them good?”

Andrew considered that for a moment. Finally, he said, “none that I can remember.”

It felt like a physical pain in Neil’s chest, hearing that. He wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted him to ask, only that once he had, he’d been hoping to hear a different answer.

Andrew waved a hand like this was all inconsequential. “I already told, it’s easier to deal with shit when you’re already expecting it. If I’d grown up in a happy, healthy family, I wouldn’t have been expecting it.”

The pain in his chest grew. Neil wanted to hit something. He also wanted to shake Andrew for acting like none of this mattered. “You were a kid. No kid should expect something like… that… is going to happen to them.”

“I told you to quit censoring yourself,” Andrew replied.

Neil scowled and stood his ground when Andrew turned to face him.

“Call it what it is, Neil,” Andrew said, poking a finger at Neil’s chest. “There’s a word for it and skating around with trailed off sentences and vague bullshit descriptors doesn’t change it or make it any different.”

Neil swallowed angrily. He wasn’t angry at Andrew, just… angry.

“Fine,” he ground out. “Rape. He raped you. There, I said it. Happy now?”

They stared at each other, nearly chest to chest. Andrew cocked his head to the side slightly, studying Neil.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Andrew asked. “What happened to me?”

Neil searched for any trace of sarcasm or censure in his voice and found none. He huffed out a breath. “Why doesn’t it bother you more? I’ve seen you nearly stomp a guy’s brains out for beating up Nicky and you almost stabbed Matt for getting too close to me during heat, but when it comes to yourself, you act like it doesn’t phase you at all. I don’t get you.”

Andrew considered him. “If it didn’t phase me, would I be here right now?”

The tension in Neil’s chest popped and deflated and he felt stupid for bringing it up in the first place. Not that he’d even meant to. Of course it phased Andrew. Even Matt, of all people, had seen how it did. Maybe Andrew didn’t display the effects of his trauma in the traditional way, but he showed them in all the ways that meant something to him.

“You matter to me,” Neil said softly. “That’s why it bothers me. You know that’s why.”

For once, Andrew didn’t respond with a sarcastic comment or outright denial. Whatever this thing was between them, it had only grown stronger, taken deeper root, over the events of these past months. 

Andrew’s eyes flickered to Neil’s lips, but neither of them moved because it wasn’t the right moment, not with everything that had just been said. Finally, Andrew released a tiny sigh and poked his finger in Neil’s chest once more, more gently this time.

“Go to bed, Neil.” Then. “We’ll talk more about your self-delusions tomorrow.”

*******

“I need to talk to you.”

David paused in the act of unlocking his front door. Without the porchlight on, he’d not noticed Neil leaning against the railing on the far end.

“Neil,” he greeted slowly. “Is there a reason you’re hanging around in the dark like a prowler?”

Neil crossed his arms, feeling his pulse pick up slightly. Despite everything, talking a Pack Alpha still unnerved him. “Sorry. I can come back.”

“And nearly give me a heart attack a second time?” David said. “Come on. I’ll make coffee.”

Neil settled at the kitchen table and waited until David had set the coffee to brew and joined him. He looked at Neil expectantly.

“I need to – I haven’t – ” Neil paused, scratching his head and stalling. He’d rehearsed this a hundred times in his head, but now the words didn’t want to come. To his credit, David didn’t push. He leaned back in his chair, waiting for Neil to sort through his thoughts.

“Riko bought me the same way he bought Kevin when I was a kid,” Neil blurted. He fixed his eyes on the table and swallowed down the nausea that came from saying it out loud. “At Easthaven, the only reason he didn’t take me was because he didn’t want to look bad publicly. He said if I didn’t come willingly, he’d… he threatened Andrew. If you hadn’t shown up, I would’ve gone with him.”

David stared at him silently for several seconds with no discernible expression. Eventually, he grimaced and rubbed a hand down his face.

“Fucking Moriyamas,” he muttered tiredly. “I’m not usually inclined to violent solutions, but I’m starting to agree with what Allison said after all.”

Neil’s heart felt like it would hammer out of his chest and he couldn’t hide the slight flinch when David lowered his hand to the table. David noticed, of course, but if anything, he just looked more tired.

“It’s no secret that you’ve been hiding something, Neil,” David continued. “I’d have to be an idiot not to figure that out. This though? This you should’ve been straight with me about from the beginning. It’s my job to keep everyone here as safe as I can, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s after them.”

“I didn’t know,” Neil said flatly. “I only learned about it when Riko told me.”

David frowned. “Then how do you know it’s true?”

Neil shook his head. “I just know, alright? Kevin confirmed it.”

David got up and returned a minute later with two coffee mugs. Neil wrapped his clammy hands around his own, soaking up the warmth, but didn’t think he could stomach it at the moment.

“I’m guessing you want to come to Atlanta,” David said. At Neil’s nod, he sighed. “That’s fine. I won’t tell you what you can or can’t do. I _will_ strongly encourage you not to be an idiot and start any more fights in public. If Riko is holding back for fear of his reputation, then he certainly doesn’t need any incentive to forget that. You and I both know what he’s capable of.”

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. “Don’t be an idiot. Got it.”

*******

They rented a passenger van to take the lot of them down to Atlanta the following week. Dan, Allison, and Renee came, along with Kevin, Andrew, and Neil. Still in town at the time, Jeremy hitched a ride as well.

Andrew, of course, only went to events like this because of Kevin, and Neil was only going because of Andrew. Neil didn’t honestly understand the point of a bunch of disparate packs getting together for three days straight to discuss border issues and inter-pack relations. Kevin insisted this was where allies were made and social standings either strengthened or weakened. Allison snorted at that, and said it was all really an excuse to party and show-off. Either way, Neil had a feeling he’d be bored out of his mind.

The van fit a total of twelve passengers. Predictably, Andrew headed straight to the back and sprawled out across an entire row. Neil settled into a seat a couple rows in front of him, hoping to sleep for a while as David cranked the engine and started into their four-hour drive.

Neil dozed fitfully, jerking awake every time the van hit a bump, or a semi-truck zoomed down the freeway opposite them. Closer to the front, the girls were talking excitedly about something, while Kevin had joined Jeremy in his seat and had their heads bowed together, talking intently.

Neil gave up on sleeping eventually and moved to the seat behind him. Standing on his knees, he draped his arms over the back of it and watched Andrew. Andrew had one knee drawn up, the other dangling over the edge of the seat, while he lay propped on his backpack and fiddled with his phone.

“Staring,” Andrew said without looking at Neil.

Neil rested his chin on the vinyl. “So?”

“Stop.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

Andrew’s eyes flickered briefly to his.

“What are you doing?” Neil asked.

“Having alone time,” Andrew replied.

“Huh. Not very successfully, it would seem.”

Andrew dropped the phone to his chest and looked at Neil. “Bored much?”

Neil shrugged.

“Tell me how you guys ended up going to Eden’s Twilight for the first time,” Neil said a few seconds later.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because,” Neil said. “Talking is what people do. Maybe you hadn’t heard.”

Andrew stared him down for a good thirty seconds before relenting with an exasperated sigh.

“At least sit down. Your arms are going to fall asleep like that and I’ll have to hear you whine about it all weekend.”

“Kinda defeats the point of talking if we can’t even see each other,” Neil said.

Andrew stared at him some more.

“Oh,” Neil said. “You meant – right.”

Andrew shoved over and Neil sunk into the seat beside him. They talked for hours. It was probably the most Neil had heard Andrew say all in one go, and he was distantly grateful that the others were sitting with so many rows between them. No way would Andrew show this much of himself around them, not even to Nicky and Aaron. In many ways, Andrew’s family was just as oblivious about him as the rest of the world.

They only made one pit-stop between Palmetto and Atlanta. Everyone else piled off the bus to use the restrooms or stock up on snacks, leaving Neil and Andrew alone.

The sun had mostly set, and Andrew’s pale hair flickered with the lights from passing traffic. Neil didn’t realize they’d stopped talking until Andrew pushed a finger under his chin and tilted his head up. A hint of indecision flashed across Andrew’s face, but he met Neil’s gaze unflinchingly.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked in a soft voice.

“Yes,” Neil said.

Their lips collided in a battle of breath and teeth and tongues. Andrew’s fingers slipped into Neil’s hair, gripping it tightly as he pressed their mouths together more firmly. Neil groaned softly. God, he’d missed this. He shifted his weight a little closer to Andrew but maintained a precious few inches between them. He didn’t know the boundaries anymore, and that was fine; Andrew would let him know when he was ready.

The sound of talking and laughter alerted them to the others’ return and they reluctantly pulled apart. Andrew wiped a hand across his mouth and turned toward the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. Even in the dim light, Neil could see the flush in his cheeks and the uneven rise and fall of his chest. Figuring he needed space, Neil silently slipped back into his original spot. Leaning his head back against the seat, Neil closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Andrew on his skin, and slept the rest of the way to Atlanta.


	20. Chapter 20

The Marriott Marquis hotel rose above them in dizzying spirals of lights and stairs and twisting modern architecture. Some of the elevators were even glass, allowing viewers to watch the ascending stories as it hurdled them to their floors.

Andrew hated it.

Of course, they ended up in a glass elevator, and of course, their rooms were on the 39th floor. He fixed his gaze on his feet, clutching the handrail, and tried to breathe evenly as the car whirred into motion and his stomach dropped to his feet.

“That was bad-ass,” Allison commented when they finally reached their floor.

Neil gently bumped his shoulder into Andrew’s as they stepped off. “Worse than flying?”

“On planes I don’t have to watch the exact path I’d take while plummeting to my death,” Andrew replied, bumping him back not so lightly and taking off after Kevin, who had their room keys.

“There’s always the stairs,” Neil called after him.

As promised, Dan had booked rooms for them all in a row, though they ended up needing just three since only David needed his own. Jeremy was a floor below with members of his own pack.

Andrew staked claim on one of the two queen-sized beds, throwing his stuff down on the mattress closest to the window. Kevin immediately plopped down on the other, which left Neil standing in the middle of the room, eyeing the arrangement uncertainly. Andrew raised an eyebrow, refusing to help, which garnered a quick scowl from Neil before he set his bag on the bed next to Andrew’s and fixed him with a look that said, ‘this is what you get’.

“If you kick me in your sleep, I’ll probably punch you,” Andrew informed him.

“I slept with a gun under my pillow for half my life,” Neil retorted mildly. “So I might try to shoot you.”

“Hm.”

“Both of you are crazy,” Kevin said, watching the exchange with an alarmed expression on his face. “Did you really have a gun?” he asked Neil.

Neil shrugged uncomfortably. “You know who I was running from. What do you think?”

Andrew knew about their conversation before Christmas, of course, but this was the first time he’d heard Neil make any reference to it around Kevin. It was strange to think that Kevin knew Neil, at least in a sense. He knew enough to know why Neil had been on the run, and he knew Riko hadn’t lied about the deal Neil’s father made. Andrew remembered the first time Neil came face to face with Kevin – an orange soda pop fizzing on the ground, Neil looking like a deer caught in headlights. At the time, he’d written it off as something else. Something about it had always irked him though, and now he knew why.

They arrived in Atlanta on a Wednesday evening, with the conference taking place on Thursday, Friday, and half of Saturday. A regional conference meant most attendees hailed from the Southeast, although packs from other parts of the country were in no way prohibited from participating. Andrew wasn’t remotely interested in the politics of it all. He’d caught a glimpse of the attendee list from Kevin a few nights ago, however, and realized the number of attending packs had nearly doubled in the last year. Andrew had little doubt it was related to Evermore. In West Virginia, they geographically sat closer to the Northeast region, but due to their unique positioning they always attended conferences for both.

“I’ve got a friend at the hotel who told me Evermore is staying on the 50th floor,” Dan told them all on the way there. She rolled her eyes. “Which is the top floor, of course. If you want to sight-see, I’d suggest floor 49 or below.”

Andrew would prefer floor 1 or below, so that wouldn’t be a problem for him.

What would be more of a problem, on the other hand, was not stabbing Riko.

Andrew didn’t remember any of their short-lived stay in Easthaven, and as far as he knew, hadn’t interacted with Riko there at all. Riko had interacted with Neil though, and left Neil with the scars to prove it. Just thinking about it made Andrew’s pulse speed up. David must have seen something on his face when Dan mentioned Evermore, because he pulled Andrew aside as they unloaded the van.

“I already made Neil promise not to do anything stupid while we’re here,” David said, hands on his hips. “Do I need to get that promise from you as well?”

“Define stupid,” Andrew replied innocently.

In the end, he agreed to no violence. Neil’s promise likely had more to do with his mouth, as that seemed to often be the cause of his troubles. Andrew didn’t ask though.

They ate out as a group the first night. David treated them all to a local fried chicken joint that was as greasy as it was delicious. After a long day of driving, everyone tucked in early. Kevin rolled himself into a blanket burrito and was snoring in seconds, leaving Andrew and Neil ostensibly alone to figure out their own sleeping situation.

Andrew curled under the blankets on his side, facing Neil. Neil followed suit and they lay in the dark, watching each other.

“Stop being weird,” Andrew told him.

Neil huffed softly. “I’m not. I’ve never slept beside anyone except my mom. It feels… weird.”

“That’s called an Oedipus complex, Neil.”

“Fuck off,” Neil said, but the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

Sleeping next to each other was easier than Andrew imagined. He still jerked awake any time Neil shifted or made a noise in his sleep, and he imagined Neil did the same, but the sight of Neil’s softly illuminated face grounded him quickly each time.

*******

The first day of the conference passed by in a blur. Andrew, and by proxy, Neil, followed Kevin around mindlessly, barely paying attention to what panel they were attending or who introduced themselves. Kevin was popular, perhaps even more so since leaving Evermore and with the recent drama between their packs. He effortlessly turned on a smile and charm he reserved solely for these types of engagements, laughing, talking, and otherwise charming his way through the crowds.

By evening, they settled into a booth at one of the hotel bars on the main level. Andrew sipped quietly at his drink while watching people continue to mill about in mostly good spirits, perhaps better now that a socially acceptable hour to drink alcohol had been reached. The girls had settled into a booth nearby and seemed considerably less drained than Andrew felt.

“I hate networking,” Neil said, after another person finished introducing themselves to Kevin and wandered back to a nearby table.

Kevin shot him an irritated look. “How exactly does sulking at my side all day qualify as networking? You could actually _try_ to make an effort.”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “You could try to kiss my ass.”

Kevin’s scathing response was interrupted by yet another person coming to introduce themselves. As his camera-ready smile flared back to life, Andrew returned his attention to people-watching.

Amazingly, they had not run into a single member of the Evermore pack that day. Their luck could only hold out for so long, as it turned out. Seemingly on cue at a little after 9pm, nearly a dozen Ravens, as Riko’s sycophants called themselves, in honor of Riko’s animal form, crowded into the bar. They took up the entire front section, effectively cutting off a chance to slip away unnoticed.

“They look ridiculous,” Neil snorted.

They were all dressed in head to toe black outfits – black casual suits for the men and mid-thigh black dresses for the women. Considering most of the conference-goers had donned jeans and t-shirts hours ago, the intimidating nature of their outfits was even more apparent.

“Hey boys,” Renee greeted, slipping into the booth beside Kevin. “They certainly know how to make an entrance, don’t they?”

Andrew spared a glance for Renee, but Kevin’s eyes were riveted on Riko’s partially obscured form behind a few of the others.

“We should go,” Kevin said.

“We have the same right to be there as they do,” Renee replied calmly. “Don’t let their childish antics defeat you.”

Andrew glanced at Neil, who was busy scowling at the black-clad figures.

Andrew clenched his fists. “This isn’t defeat. It’s admitting we’re outnumbered. We’re going.” He stood up and looked at Renee. “Can you get Neil out through the service entrance?”

She cocked her head slightly in confusion as she nodded.

“You want me to sneak out alone?” Neil protested hotly. “No fucking way.”

“Foxes are supposed to be sneaky, Neil,” Andrew reminded him, earning a furious scowl from Neil. “And sneaking is the opposite of creating a scene.”

Neil opened his mouth to argue more, but Renee gripped his arm lightly and tugged him after her.

“Come on,” she said. To Andrew and Kevin, “be careful.”

Kevin's expression said he was less than thrilled not to also be sneaking out the back. Andrew knew if they all disappeared at the same time, someone would notice. At least this way Riko’s attention would be focused on him, and not on the omega he was so desperate to possess. Over Andrew’s dead body would that ever happen.

This was a public place. Neither Riko nor the Ravens could make too much of a scene as Andrew and Kevin walked through their ranks on their way to the exit. Still, it made Andrew’s skin crawl to feel a dozen pairs of eyes watching him. Kevin, though pale-faced and breathing shallowly, walked past his former pack-mates with his head held high and didn’t make eye contact with a single one of them. Andrew felt a strange sense of pride at that.

No one spoke a word or tried to stop them until Kevin had passed through the glass exit doors and kept walking quickly toward the elevators. Andrew was less than a step behind him, hand on the half-open door, when someone grabbed his arm. He whirled around, shrugging off the offending touch and came face to face with Riko’s smug face.

“Oh, apologies,” Riko said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “I thought you must be open for business, seeing as you spread your legs for your own brother.”

Some of the others laughed, though Andrew detected a shred of uneasiness about it from one or two.

“Is there a reason you’re talking to me, other than to hear yourself talk?” Andrew asked.

Riko’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like you don’t know. Nathaniel belongs to me and he knows it. Just like Kevin.” He studied Andrew. “And I’m starting to think you are the common factor in their rebellion.”

Andrew experienced a small jolt of surprise at the unfamiliar name, though he knew immediately it meant Neil. Surprise quickly turned to annoyance. That name had been Neil’s secret to tell – not Riko’s.

“Tell Nathaniel the deal I offered him before still stands,” Riko continued. “He comes to me willingly, and I’ll leave you and your precious little pack alone.”

“Oh, a threat,” Andrew deadpanned. “How original and scary.”

“This is not a game, you child,” Riko hissed. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

Andrew couldn’t help it – he rolled his eyes.

Riko’s face reddened and he took a threatening step forward. It was a move made to intimidate and cower, to show dominance over those weaker than himself. Or so he assumed.

Andrew had dealt with threats and intimidation his whole life. He knew what bullies wanted, and he knew exactly what to not give them. Though he had to tilt his face up slightly to keep his gaze level with Riko’s, he didn’t budge as the other man invaded his space. This made Riko’s face even redder.

“You know I’m still figuring out what I’m going to do to Nathaniel when he comes back to me,” Riko said. He kept his voice low, out of earshot except for those in the immediate vicinity. “Maybe I’ll take a page out of your book, Doe. I learned so many fascinating things about you, after all. Maybe I’ll tickle him until he laughs, maybe I’ll choke him to keep him quiet, maybe I’ll make him beg me to fuck him during heat – ”

“Back the fuck off, you sick little piece of shit,” Allison said, shoving Riko backward with two hands. Caught by surprise, he stumbled into the table behind him and nearly lost his footing. He righted himself quickly, angrily pushing away the guy who helped steady him and glared.

Andrew’s pulse pounded in his ears. He hadn’t seen Allison and Dan approach, but suddenly they were there, forming a barrier between him and the Ravens. He’d been this close to drawing a knife. Maybe they knew.

“This conference is about unity and partnership,” Dan spoke in a low, tight voice. “Harassing a member of another pack is unacceptable and I should report you to the organizers.”

Riko snorted incredulously. “You can’t _report_ me. My pack pays half their salaries.”

“Daddy’s money can only get you so far,” Allison retorted with a toss of her hair. “Trust me, I would know.”

“Let’s go,” Dan said, turning away.

The three of them exited and made their way quickly to the elevators. Andrew’s blood was still boiling, and he didn’t respond to either of them when they asked if he was okay. They found Kevin, Neil, and Renee waiting on the 39th floor, right outside the cars. Neil’s face collapsed in immediate relief when he spotted Andrew.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Kevin said. He looked frantic. “I thought you were right behind me, then I turned around and you were gone. What happened?”

Andrew shouldered past him, ignoring the concerned glances exchanged by the girls. He yanked open the door to their room and walked inside, stopping in front of the floor-to-ceiling window before realizing Neil had followed him. He wore a carefully blank expression as he approached Andrew and looked him over.

“For the record,” Neil said. “That was complete bullshit. I told you not to fight my battles for me.”

Andrew drew in a shuddering breath, eyes fixed on the ground far below them. From here, people looked like ants and cars like toys.

“I promised David no violence,” he explained flatly. “Having you there would’ve made that more difficult.”

Neil made a quiet noise of disbelief. “Did it work? The no-violence part?”

“Barely.”

Andrew placed his palm against the cold glass and let it seep into him, trying to quench the fiery rage coursing through his body. Riko’s ugly words weren’t the cause of his anger. Andrew had lived through it, after all. But imagining those things being done to Neil? That, that was not okay.

“He called you Nathaniel,” Andrew said, after the fire had waned to a smolder.

Neil flinched. “I hate that name.”

Andrew nodded. He wouldn’t use it again.

“What did he say to you?” Neil asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Neil huffed quietly. “Clearly it does, or you wouldn’t be so upset.”

Andrew considered remaining stubborn and not telling him. What good would it do? They’d been sharing more and more truths lately though, so he finally relented.

“He talked about what he’d do to you,” Andrew said. He refused to repeat the details, but the words still tasted vile. “He was inspired by things he learned about me, apparently.”

Neil frowned. “What do you…” His face blanked in recognition before settling into an angry scowl. “Fuck him. Andrew, you were the one who said not to let him get to me. Follow your own advice.”

Andrew slid him a look. “This isn’t about him getting to me.”

Neil huffed again. “Then what?”

They locked eyes, staring hard, challenging yet holding each other up at the same time – equalizing.

“If he ever lays another hand on you,” Andrew said, “I will rip him apart, limb by limb.”

“Funny,” Neil replied, “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Had it only been a couple days since they kissed? Andrew couldn’t remember as he pushed Neil against the nearest wall and kissed him until they were both breathless and panting. The kiss at the gas station had broken some sort of barrier for Andrew, one that he had to push himself through, but now that he was here, on the other side, it felt so damn good.

“Kevin could walk in,” Neil gasped against his lips.

“It’ll probably scar him for life,” Andrew agreed as he leaned back in.

At some point, Andrew realized Neil had his hands flattened against the wall behind him and a swell of something like affection filled his throat.

“I already told you my head is okay,” Andrew said in a softly exasperated voice.

Neil immediately slid his fingers into Andrew’s hair, sending shivers shooting down his spine. He responded by sliding his hands underneath Neil’s shirt and smoothing them up the flushed, scarred skin beneath. Neil moaned into his mouth and when Andrew leaned forward, tentatively resting some of his weight against Neil’s, he moaned again in encouragement.

Andrew felt dizzy, a rush of fear and arousal battling inside him as he lightly pressed their hips and bellies together. He could feel Neil’s hardness through his jeans and knew Neil could feel his own as well. He made a tiny rocking motion with his hips. Pleasure shot through him and Neil made an incoherent noise before pulling his head back enough to look at Andrew.

“Is this okay?” Neil asked softly, without judgement. “We don’t have to.”

Andrew rested his forehead against Neil’s, breathing unsteadily, and nodded. Neil’s fingers tightened in his hair.

“Yes or no, Andrew?”

Andrew wasn’t an impulsive person. He did things because he wanted to and said no when he didn’t. Because of that, he took the question seriously and spent a long moment just resting against Neil and sorting through his own motivations. He could blame it on heightened emotions, could say he was pushing himself to prove a point, but none of that was really true. Crowded against a wall with Neil, sharing their lips and bodies, holding each other up in more ways than one – there was nowhere he would rather be.

“Yes.”

Andrew fisted his hands in Neil’s shirt and kissed him senseless while they rocked against each other in increasingly frantic motions. Neil gripped Andrew’s hair and sucked a path down his neck, focusing on the juncture of his shoulder that made Andrew gasp and his hips stutter. The fabric between them started to feel a bit rough, but neither of them tried to remove it. Neil came first, moaning loudly and dropping his face against Andrew’s neck. Andrew followed him over the edge moments later and rested his forehead on Neil’s sweaty hair, breathing hard and shuddering as after-shocks worked their way through him.

Some indeterminate amount of time later, they untangled themselves, sharing a lingering kiss before pulling apart. Andrew grimaced at the cold stickiness in his pants and the faint edges of anxiety told him a shower was in order.

He took his time, lingering under the hot spray while replaying what had just happened in his head. He decided the anxiety had nothing to do with Neil, and only a little to do with what they’d done together. It had most everything to do with Andrew’s past experiences. Consent and reciprocity had played zero role during those times, and part of Andrew didn’t know how he could choose to have sex with someone after all that, let alone enjoy it. He did though. He felt attraction, he felt lust. Andrew’s sexuality might have been used against him, but they hadn’t taken it away. He would never allow that.

He exited the bathroom to find Neil sitting casually on the bed, flipping through the channels while Kevin sprawled on the other, beer in hand.

“There’s more in the fridge,” Kevin informed him. “The girls and I went on a booze-run. Oh, and we got food from that fried chicken place. There’s leftovers.”

Andrew helped himself to both offerings and settled on the bed next to Neil.

“You both seem a lot calmer,” Kevin said at random, with a vaguely suspicious look. The excessive amount of drunken squinting he was doing made it less effective.

“You seem a lot drunker,” Andrew replied mildly. Kevin responded with a snort and let it drop.

By the time they finished watching the latter end of a made-for-tv movie and Kevin had dropped into a snore-filled sleep, Andrew’s eyes were listing. He and Neil settled down into the same arrangement as the previous night. As he watched Neil close his eyes and his breathing deepen, Andrew felt the same surge of protectiveness as earlier. It was more settled this time, less explosive, but it only solidified the sentiment he’d expressed to Neil earlier.

It was kind of nice, knowing Neil felt the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I made everyone so nervous for the Atlanta trip! Don't worry, shit isn't going to hit the fan quite yet (not to say there isn't plenty of drama ahead... :D)
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and for all your lovely comments! I can't believe this story has reached 70K words now - wowza!


	21. Chapter 21

Neil didn’t get distracted. Distraction was the difference between life and death, between capture and freedom. Hyper-vigilance. That would be a better description of Neil’s resting state. Always aware, always ready to move, to run. He never walked into a room without immediately scouting out all the exits and taking a rough count of the occupants, flagging any potential threats that stood out. By no means had Neil stopped doing any of this. Distraction was never going to be a luxury he could afford. And yet…

The second day of the conference, Neil was _so fucking distracted_. Every time he accidentally brushed an arm against Andrew, or their knees bumped into each other while sitting in a crowded panel room, Neil’s stomach would do a funny little flip-flop thing. And then he’d remember what it felt like to have Andrew’s body pressed against his own… The heavy, safe feeling of their chests, stomachs, and thighs touching as they heaved and panted together… The quiet, self-contained noise Andrew made when he came…

Neil cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. As nonchalantly as possible, he set the programming guide over his lap and prayed no one would notice he had a boner in the middle of a panel on independent-area zoning regulations. Andrew continued staring absently into space, seemingly bored, though Neil suspected he would remember every word the speakers said. Kevin was enraptured, leaned forward slightly, forearms on his knees, a slight frown worked between his brows. No, Neil didn’t need to worry about him noticing at least.

By the time the panel started to wrap up, Neil felt slightly more under control. And then Andrew leaned over and said under his breath, “Do you need to go take care of that?”

The three of them left the panel and settled down onto a lobby couch to wait out the 45-minute break until the next item on Kevin’s agenda. Certain his face was the color of a tomato, Neil sat as far away from both of them as he could and pretended to read intently from a brochure he found on the seat next to him.

“Oh, thank god, a coffee cart,” Kevin sighed, getting to his feet. “Andrew, I assume you want something sweet? Yeah. Neil?”

Neil quickly shook his head and muttered out a no.

“Suit yourself,” Kevin said.

Neil re-read the same page probably a dozen times without paying attention to a single word. The problem with this particular distraction was that he liked it, dammit. Sure, they’d made out together before, and Andrew had gotten him off multiple times, but last night? That was something different. Being able to feel Andrew, to hear him and be with him while he found his own pleasure… Neil was drunk on the memory of it. He also wanted to do it again.

Desire wasn’t new to Neil. Young and stupid, he’d dared to act on it in the most innocent of ways. His mother had beat that notion out of his head quickly, and from there on out, Neil simply dealt with his body’s needs in the same detached, perfunctory way he did everything else. That’s to stay, he still experienced the physical evidence of arousal – he was young and healthy, of course he did – but he stopped thinking about it. He didn’t look at others and lust after them, and he certainly didn’t fantasize. And now Neil had an Andrew-sized fantasy that he didn’t know quite what to do with.

“Something on your mind?” Andrew’s voice was tinged in mild amusement.

Neil flushed. “Nope.”

“Then Omegas for Jesus of Fulton County, Georgia must be more interesting than I thought.”

Neil blinked. “Huh?” At Andrew’s pointed look, he glanced down at the brochure and realized what he’d been reading. “Oh,” he said. “Well, if you join during the conference you can attend the free Alpha-Omega speed-dating event Saturday night.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Keeping your options open?”

Neil stared him down before repeating, “Nope.”

Andrew stared back. Then he yawned and stretched like he’d gotten bored and refocused his attention on watching the crowd.

Kevin returned several minutes later with coffee, pastries for Andrew, and carrot sticks for himself. He dipped them in what Neil assumed to be hummus and looked like he genuinely enjoyed the snack as he crunched obnoxiously loud even in the relative bustle of the lobby.

“Tell me seriously,” Neil said. “Your other form is an herbivore, isn’t it?”

Kevin shot him an annoyed look. “That’s none of your concern.”

“He’s a horse,” Andrew supplied helpfully.

“Traitor,” Kevin muttered, stuffing another carrot in his mouth.

“Horses are very regal,” Neil said. Then, “have you ever considered offering riding lessons in your free time?”

Kevin flushed angrily and launched into a lecture on bodily autonomy, which Neil mostly tuned out. The conversation came to an immediate halt however when Jean Moreau walked up.

Andrew didn’t stand, but he straightened and focused his gaze solely on Jean while idly fingering his armbands. Jean gave him a wary look. He avoided looking at Neil completely.

Neil couldn’t recall seeing Jean the night before, and now, in the harsh florescent lighting of the lobby, the reason was all too obvious. His neck and wrists, what remained visible outside of a fastidiously buttoned black shirt, were marred with new and old bruises. Yellows, greens, and purples peeked out from beneath his clothing and for the first time, Neil felt a faintest twinge of sympathy for his situation.

“Are you alright?” Kevin asked.

Jean shook his head tightly. “What are you doing?”

They both spoke in French.

Neil barely refrained from reacting. He had no idea Kevin could speak French, even if it made sense that Jean could. Of course, neither of them had any idea _Neil_ could speak French, so he forced himself to play it cool and not look like he understood every word they were saying.

Kevin frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Riko,” Jean replied in a low voice, as names translated across languages. “Why do you keep egging him on? He’s in enough trouble with the Master as it is, and you and your pack keep giving him reason after reason to go after you. It needs to stop.”

“Did the Master do that to you?” Kevin asked.

Jean self-consciously tugged his sleeves further down his wrists and scowled. “You know who bears the punishment when he messes up, Kevin. What do you think?”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said, in a softer voice than Neil had ever heard from him. “I didn’t mean for any of this to affect you.”

“Yes, well maybe you should’ve thought of that before leaving me there,” Jean snapped.

Kevin paled and Jean looked away for a moment, clearly trying to gather himself.

“The publicity from Halloween was barely a slap on the wrist,” Jean continued. “What happened in December…” He tossed an uncomfortable glance between Andrew and Neil. “He didn’t bother covering his tracks, as you know. Both the police and staff at the institution had contact with him that they couldn’t deny, and the Master is furious. He is starting to see your pack as more of a threat than a hindrance, Kevin. You understand what that means.”

Kevin nodded slowly. “Why are you telling me any of this?”

Jean’s scowl deepened. “Unlike you, my loyalty to people doesn’t disappear overnight.” He hesitated before continuing. “At least one of us was able to find a better life. I have no wish to see that destroyed.”

Kevin’s expression was haggard with regret. “I’m…”

Jean glanced over his shoulder as he turned to leave. “He is obsessed with that one.” He nodded minutely at Neil, who literally bit his tongue to hide any reaction. “Bringing him here, flaunting him, that was not a good idea.” And then he left.

Andrew, who had watched the whole interaction with a bored, if slightly annoyed, air, turned to Kevin with an expectant look.

“What was that about?”

Kevin sighed heavily. “Evermore is pissed at us.”

“This is news to who exactly?” Andrew asked.

“He was just letting me know,” Kevin said, shaking his head.

Neil eyed him suspiciously, wondering why he hadn’t shared the whole conversation. Also, who exactly was ‘the Master’, and why had Kevin looked like he might lose his lunch when Jean mentioned him? His uncle, Tetsuji? Someone even higher? His father? Neil knew Riko didn’t pull all the strings – really, he pulled only a select few in the grand scheme of things, but he pulled on them like an insane puppet-master who saw the whole world as his self-written play. And apparently someone was not so happy with the current script.

They suffered through the next few panels with barely any time or conversation in between. Much different than his distracted state from earlier, now all Neil could think about was Evermore and the Moriyamas. He knew plenty about them, even more, now that he understood his father had not operated independently, but rather as one of their major pawns. Long ago, Neil had fantasized about giving himself up to the FBI, spilling all that he knew, and taking down his father once and for all. Of course, Neil knew such an act was basically suicide. The Butcher had people everywhere – probably in the FBI itself – and he had no doubt he’d end up dead before the clerks finished typing up his testimony.

He had to wonder though, knowing what he did now, if his father went down, who and what else would go with him?

*******

The day felt a little surreal after that. Neil struggled to pull his thoughts back to the present, but instead he started cycling through everything he knew about Nathan Wesninski and his operations. Some of it, Neil knew from the terrifying years spent under his father’s thumb, the rest as lessons and information from his mother during their time on the run. The latter had been taught as a means of survival – if Neil didn’t understand what and who to avoid, he would be dead before he reached puberty. Even so, Neil knew countless names, locations, and businesses. He knew drug-running routes, he knew where and how bodies got disposed of depending on which city they were in. He knew individuals who would shelter a runaway mom and child in the middle of the night, and he knew entire packs that would turn them over at the drop of a hat.

The question that bugged him now was whether Neil knew the ins and outs of his father’s operation, or did he know Evermore’s?

Neil barely paid attention to the food and conversation during dinner until something soft thwacked against his forehead. His hand flew up and came away with something sticky and red. For a quick, tense moment, Neil saw blood and he jerked in alarm, eyes flying up to find Andrew’s. Only then did it occur to him that they were sitting in a diner booth and the red, sticky substance on Neil’s face and fingers was merely ketchup.

“What is it with you and throwing food at me?” Neil asked, irritated, as he yanked a napkin out of the dispenser and quickly wiped away the mess.

Andrew shrugged and dunked another fry in the mess of ketchup beside his half-eaten burger. Beside him, Kevin was absently typing away on his phone.

“Got your attention, did it not?” Andrew said as he chewed.

Neil rolled his eyes. “Normally people start with saying someone’s name first.”

Andrew kept eating, unconcerned.

“I have work to do with Jeremy” Kevin announced, flipping his phone closed and standing. “He’s waiting for me outside.” He glanced uncertainly between them. “You’ll be fine on your own?”

“Will you?” Neil shot back.

Andrew cocked his head slightly at Neil. “We will be fine,” he said.

Kevin nodded. “I don’t know how late we’ll be. I’ll let you know.”

Andrew waved him off and he went.

Neil nearly lost himself in thought again, only to be disrupted by another fry contacting his cheek.

“Seriously?” he said.

“You’ve been glaring at your food all night. Maybe try eating it and I wouldn’t throw it at you.”

Neil pushed his plate back. “It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

Andrew watched him, not saying anything. Long enough that Neil finally bit out a sharp, “_What_?”

“Come on.” Andrew didn’t wait for Neil to answer. He threw a handful of bills down on the table and stood, heading for the door without checking to see if Neil would follow.

Neil huffed and hurried to catch up. They were a few blocks from the hotel and night had fallen completely over the city. Neil found Atlanta considerably more palatable in the nighttime. Shadows hid the trash-filled gutters and softened even the most unsavory of details.

“Where are we going?” Neil asked, as Andrew took a turn into a parking structure. “Are you planning on stealing a car?”

Andrew didn’t answer, so Neil followed into the elevator and they rode to the highest floor. Once there, Andrew ducked beneath a chain that said ‘No Public Access’ and started up an additional flight of stairs. At the top they came to a door, which should’ve been locked, but Neil wasn’t terribly surprised to see Andrew push straight through. Neil stuffed a nearby brick into the doorframe as a precaution, then joined Andrew at the edge of the roof.

Neil stared out over the unprotected edge with him, taking in the historic tree-lined streets juxtaposed by massive skyscrapers and flashing billboard lights. After a while, Neil lost interest in the view and started watching Andrew instead.

“Why are we up here?” he asked.

Andrew tapped the side of his skull. “So that you’ll get out of here.”

Neil understood. He’d been stuck inside his head most of the day, in one way or another. Still, he decided to play dumb.

“I’m stuck in your head?”

Andrew slid him a bored look. “You wish.”

Neil smiled slightly. “Normally people wish for things that aren’t already happening.”

Neil felt vindicated as Andrew pushed him down and kissed him until he couldn’t think straight. Eventually, Andrew pulled back, flushed and disheveled. He sat up and light flickered briefly as he lit a cigarette. Neil lay there a bit longer, staring up into the dark sky. Despite his rapidly beating heart, he felt calmer and a bit more centered. With the lingering weight of Andrew’s lips pressing against his own, it was difficult to think of anything else. Nor did he really want to.

When they got up to leave, Neil took Andrew’s surprisingly offered hand and let himself get hauled to his feet. Andrew withdrew his hand immediately, taking off for the stairs with his usual disregard, but Neil felt the ghost of it the entire walk back. 

*******

They had a package waiting for them when they arrived at the room, or rather, the notification of one at the front desk. Andrew sighed expansively about having to ride the glass elevators again. Neil considered telling him he didn’t have to go but realized it would be a waste of breath, so he didn’t bother.

As they approached the concierge, a woman brushed by them on her way to the exit. Neil caught a familiar flash of long, dark hair and a wide, toothy smile that made his stomach roil with remembered anxiety. He gritted his teeth and refused to look even as beads of sweat popped up on his brow. Considering what he’d spent the day thinking about, it was no surprise that his mind would play tricks on him. Andrew was beside him though. They were in the middle of a crowded Shifter convention. Thousands of women had long hair and wide smiles. It meant nothing. Tricks. Just tricks.

Neil repeated that to himself until they gave their room number to the concierge and got handed a small, white envelope that had a single word hand-written on the front: JUNIOR.

The world tilted around him. Neil didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until Andrew grabbed him by the back of the neck and propelled him across the lobby. Everything started slipping away – no, wait, that was just the floors flashing by as the elevator ascended. Somehow, he made it to their room and found himself pushed down onto a bed. That was good, because he didn’t think his legs would hold much longer. Andrew shoved Neil’s head down between his knees, his hand warm and heavy on Neil’s neck.

“Stop it,” Andrew ordered, squeezing lightly.

It was such an obnoxious demand that Neil opened his mouth to reply, only finding that he had to take a breath first, which he really hadn’t done since reading the envelope. A shudder worked its way through his body, and he took another. And another. Slowly, his breathing evened out and the foggy panic eating at the edges of Neil’s brain receded just a bit.

“What happened?” Andrew asked. He hadn’t moved his hand the entire time and Neil didn’t want him to now. The press of his fingers on Neil’s skin felt like an anchor – without it, he might slip away again.

Neil shivered and sucked in a few more breaths before sitting up.

“Let me see the letter,” he said dully.

Andrew assessed him silently, then handed it over.

Neil swallowed down his nausea as he flipped it over and tore open the seal. He withdrew a single piece of paper, folded once. It read, ‘Looking forward to catching up soon. XOXO’. It was signed with the stain of bright red lips.

“I’m going to be sick,” Neil muttered. He made it to the bathroom just in time to kneel over the toilet and lose what little dinner he’d managed to eat. Afterward, he continued kneeling there, forehead pressed to the cold porcelain. Andrew had stopped in the doorway, and Neil felt him there now, watching.

Neil climbed unsteadily to his feet. He spit in the sink and rinsed his mouth. Behind him, Andrew leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed loosely.

“That note wasn’t from Riko,” Andrew said. It wasn’t a question.

Neil shook his head and gripped the edges of the sink.

Andrew waited.

Neil closed his eyes. For all the truths they’d shared, this wasn’t something Neil had ever been prepared for. This, he had spent half his life on the run for. For this, his mother had died. Neil didn’t want anyone else to die. He’d decided to stay though. For his own sake, for Andrew’s and the Foxes, Neil had to let him know what was out there.

“Someone who works for my father,” Neil said finally. “I saw her in the lobby, but I thought my mind was playing tricks on me.”

Andrew didn’t respond immediately. When he did, he said, “’Works’ implies present tense. I’m assuming that wasn’t a grammatical error.”

Neil forced open his eyes and met Andrew’s gaze in the mirror. He held it as he worked up to what came next.

“She works for him,” Neil said slowly, every word a boulder dropping from his mouth. “Because my father isn’t dead. He’s called the Butcher of Baltimore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry for the cliffhanger... ;)
> 
> Also, I realize I haven't revealed many of the Foxes' shifted forms yet, because it just hasn't come up. At the end of the story, I'm planning to give you guys the list (because I've had that since I started writing). 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who's reading and following along!


	22. Chapter 22

Neil felt numb, inside and out. He explained everything slowly with the barest amount of detail. He kept his eyes glued to the carpet as he talked, unable to bare what he’d find in Andrew’s expression. Anger, disgust, rejection? Of them all, rejection would be the hardest. But Neil deserved it. He deserved worse. This would finally cut the fragile thread of trust between them and Neil would do what he should’ve done months ago. Leave.

Silence weighed heavily on Neil after he finished talking. He desperately wanted to look up and witness the impact of his words, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He wanted to hang onto these last few moments with this odd, unexpected pack that had taken him in and treated him like… like family. At least, Neil assumed so. He’d never known what family really felt like, what they were supposed to feel like. Soon his father would catch up with him, would kill him, and he never would.

“So what?” Andrew let the question hang and Neil waited, steeling himself. “Of all the excuses to run, you couldn’t come up with something less dramatic?”

Neil blinked, confused. Finally, he dragged his gaze up to meet Andrew’s and shock punched through him like a physical blow. Gone was his apathetic mask. In its place he wore a look of pure exasperation, and even more shockingly, amusement.

“What…” Neil cleared his throat. “Why aren’t you furious? I put you all in danger. I’m _putting_ you all in danger, just by being here. If my father finds out I told you…” He shuddered. “I never should’ve stayed, Andrew. I was stupid and selfish and –”

Andrew stuck a finger over Neil’s lips. “Neil,” he said. “Shut up.”

Neil shook his head, dislodging Andrew’s finger. “No! You don’t understand. He will _destroy_ Palmetto. Every Fox. He’ll –”

Andrew pressed his entire palm against Neil’s mouth and knelt, coming to eye-level.

“The Moriyamas hate us,” Andrew said. “They could come after us at any time. They could send your father after us at any time. How does you being his son change any of that?”

Neil breathed hard through his nose, waiting for Andrew to move his hand. Even now, he wouldn’t touch him without permission. He’d breached enough trust already, whether Andrew wanted to admit it or not.

Andrew finally did lower his hand, though he kept it pressed against Neil’s chest instead. Neil could feel his own heart thumping against Andrew’s palm.

“It changes because it’s personal for him,” Neil said, fighting to keep his voice under control. “My mom and I ran. We stole from him. We humiliated him, got him sent to prison. What he’ll do to me – to anyone around me – is worse than anything the Moriyamas could ever come up with on their own.”

They stared at each other.

“He’ll _hurt_ you,” Neil breathed. “I can’t let that happen.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “But you’ll let him hurt you instead.”

“No,” Neil shook his head, swallowing. “I’ll run. Leave the country. I know how to get away.”

“Except he already knows where you are. If you disappear, will that stop him from coming after Palmetto?”

Neil’s insides turned to dust and for the second time that day, he couldn’t breathe. Because Andrew was right. Neil’s involvement with the Foxes was too well-known, too public. This was why his mother had never allowed them to form attachments anywhere. Not only for the danger it put them in, but for the inevitable carnage it left behind. She’d drilled that into Neil from day one and less than a year after her death, Neil had thrown it all away.

Not for nothing though.

“Then I’ll give myself up,” Neil said flatly. Panic threatened to grip its icy fingers around his throat, and he forced it back. “If I’m dead, he won’t care.” Neil would take him down first though. He’d tell the feds everything he knew. Maybe he’d even figure out a way to end it himself before his father caught up with him.

“You’re such an idiot,” Andrew growled. His hand formed into a fist, gripping Neil’s shirt and tugging him forward so their faces were inches apart. “Stop being stupid, and stop being a martyr. You’re at 99%, Josten.”

It wasn’t funny. None of this was, but the response was so typically Andrew that it startled a laugh out of Neil that bordered on a sob. Neil closed the remaining distance between them and rested his forehead against Andrew’s.

“How can you stand me? How can you hear all this and not run screaming the other way?” Neil whispered. “I’m the son of a monster. Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I think I might be one too.”

Andrew stayed quiet for a minute. Skin to skin, Neil could feel his pulse beating steadily, firmly. “I’ve known my fair share of monsters,” he finally said, equally quiet. “You’re not like them, Neil. Quit trying to convince yourself that you are.”

Neil closed his eyes, breath hitching. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve _him_.

“You’re not giving yourself up.”

Andrew shook his head, cutting him off when Neil started to reply.

“You promised not to run. And you promised no more lies.” He pulled back enough so Neil could see his eyes, eyes that betrayed all the fierce feelings inside Andrew. Ones he kept buried, hidden so deeply behind boredom and apathy that others doubted their existence at all. He wasn’t hiding now.

Some part of Neil simultaneously broke and healed with that look. He realized, beneath Andrew’s declarations and bravado lay something breathtakingly fragile, too vulnerable to voice. Andrew was scared. Because… Because he cared.

Neil closed the distance between them again. This time he dropped his head against Andrew’s shoulder and Andrew allowed it. A moment later, hands worked their way around Neil’s back and clutched at his shoulders.

“I won’t,” Neil said. He shuddered and Andrew’s grip tightened. Even uttering the words aloud felt like a death sentence. “I won’t go.”

Tiny shivers worked their way through Andrew’s frame and Neil realized he was trembling. They both were.

“This,” Andrew said, as they held each other. “This is how you fight back.”

*******

In the days and weeks following Atlanta, Andrew watched Neil withdraw further into his own head while simultaneously opening himself to whatever the others had to offer. He went on twice-daily runs with Matt, allowed Allison to fuss over his hair and fashion choices, and watched movies with Nicky and Aaron. He sought out Andrew’s hands and kisses as one seeks a refuge. One day, as they lay tangled in sheets and limbs, heat cooling between them, Andrew had a sudden pervasive feeling that all of this was leading up to something.

Neil convinced David to let him work with Kevin and he did so, to the point of obsession. If he couldn’t be found elsewhere, Neil and Kevin were hunched together over a table, talking and writing furiously. Neil had decided to share information with Kevin, to tell him everything he could about various criminal networks he knew so well thanks to his unusual upbringing. Despite the danger of such knowledge, Andrew allowed it. He knew Kevin’s history better than most and knew its responsibility for Kevin’s single-minded fixation with his work now. Neil was the golden goose Kevin had been chasing for years, and he would never forgive either of them if he found out they’d failed to share such important information.

The others accepted Kevin and Neil’s new, odd friendship as a product of having a mutual enemy (and perhaps a mutual Andrew). They knew of Riko’s claim over Neil, though none of the details, and figured it made sense the two of them would team up to take him down. If all went well, they would take down much more than Riko.

A significant break came along in early March. Jeremy sent leads to Kevin as often as possible, even ones that seemed insignificant and unrelated and often, proved just so. This time, as Neil read down a list of shifters potentially connected to breeding farms, one name snagged Andrew’s attention.

“Wait,” he said.

Both Kevin and Neil glanced up in surprise. Andrew often sat in on their brainstorming sessions, but mostly he used the time to kick back in a chair and close his eyes. Really, he listened – and remembered – everything.

“Say that last name again.”

Neil looked slightly bemused by Andrew’s sudden attention. “Uh, Steven Walker? That one?”

He’d heard correctly then. Andrew vividly recalled the sight of Robin crying, shoved to the wet pavement while a beta towered over her trembling body. Tackling him to the ground, even with the punch he earned afterward, had been so worth it.

“We need to talk to Robin,” Andrew said.

Andrew quickly summarized the story. The beta, a repeat offender named John Hargrove, wasn’t on the list Kevin received and Kevin hadn’t been here at the time so neither name would mean anything to him without Andrew’s input. After the attack at the shelter, however, the cops threatened John with multiple felony charges and he flipped quickly, insisting he worked for a man named Steven Walker. Since Steven had a legal claim on Robin, he said, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Utter bullshit, of course. Andrew had seen Robin’s face when they said Steven’s name, and shortly afterward, Robin told him everything.

“What happened to him afterward?” Neil asked.

Andrew shrugged. “He was arrested for trespassing and assault. As far as I know, they never found his supposed boss, so if he went to prison, I don’t know for how long.”

Neil frowned. “But Robin knew him from before coming here, right? That’s why he came after her?”

Andrew nodded but didn’t offer any details. That was Robin’s story to tell, not his.

“She’s not exactly talkative,” Kevin observed rudely. “How do you know she’ll say anything to us now?”

Andrew gave him a flat look. “I don’t.”

Kevin scoffed. “It might be _important_. She’ll have to.”

“I think Andrew and I should talk to her alone,” Neil intervened, no doubt seeing the look on Andrew’s face.

“No way!” Kevin protested. “I need to talk to her.”

“You need to quit being an asshole,” Neil snapped.

Kevin scowled, a muscle in his jaw twitching visibly. When Andrew and Neil left to find Robin, he didn’t follow.

Nestled in a recliner, munching on popcorn and watching sitcom reruns with the other girls, Robin looked happy and light-hearted. So very different than the scared, barely functioning girl that Andrew had helped up off that pavement. Andrew forced himself to ignore the pang he felt at disrupting that. He knew what it felt like to find calm, and what it felt like to have it abruptly snatched away.

Robin’s dark brows pinched together when she caught sight of Andrew nodding her out of the living room. She quietly excused herself and followed him into the kitchen where Neil sat waiting.

“What’s going on?” she asked, glancing between them curiously.

“We need to know about Steven Walker,” Neil said bluntly.

The blood drained from Robin’s face and she clenched her hands into tight fists. She looked to Andrew with a haunted look.

“Is it important?” she asked in a tiny voice.

Andrew nodded, but he continued to watch her closely. He’d taken Robin under his wing, just like the others, and he wouldn’t see her broken. Not even for this.

Neil briefly explained how the name had come up, focusing on its potential importance. If they could align Steven’s movements with what they knew of the breeding farms, it could put them that much closer to finding them. It could blow the case wide open.

Robin listened silently. And then, with a carefully blank look on her face, she told them her story.

Taken at age five, she spent the next several years forgetting where she came from and forgetting what freedom felt like. Steven Walker referred to himself as her ‘father’ while he did things that no parent would do to their child. Steven had friends, including a large, dark-haired beta who visited frequently and made sure Robin knew she was owned. At eleven, Steven sent Robin out to lure in another child. Robin escaped. Unfortunately, so did Steven, his friends, and his new daughter.

Reunited with her family, Robin slowly tried to adjust to life outside of four walls. Crowds terrified her. Her parents home-schooled her because she couldn’t handle being surrounded by so many people. She saw Steven everywhere, smiling at a distance, lurking around the next corner. She knew he wanted her back. She tried telling her parents, telling her therapists, but no one really listened.

When the police found the body of the girl who'd taken Robin’s place, she ran. Steven knew where she was. He would find her, and he would kill her too. Or worse, he wouldn’t. After living rough for a while, she heard about Palmetto and stumbled her way into their shelter for stray shifters. Her fears were finally realized when a familiar beta with his arm in a sling followed her inside, whispering in her ear about taking her back to Steven.

The rest, they knew, so Robin stopped there. She’d lost any trace of color in her cheeks and her eyes had a haunted, faraway look that Andrew was all too familiar with. He filled a glass of water and pressed it into her hands, causing her to blink up at him, as if surprised to find him there.

“Sometimes he took me with him when he traveled,” Robin continued softly, running a finger through the condensation that had gathered on the side of her glass. “Especially when I got older and knew to stay quiet. I never went inside or heard him talk to anyone, but I could probably tell you some of the routes if you have a map.”

Neil nodded, a quick strained thing. Andrew stayed with Robin, just sitting quietly, until Neil returned with a map and a pencil.

At the time, Robin hadn’t known where she’d been kept, but she learned afterward, and she remembered other things like crossing a bridge or how many rest-stops they passed on their way to a destination. She stayed remarkably calm while pointing out familiar road names and recalling landmarks. By the time they finished, it was well past midnight. Robin politely excused herself and walked to the nearest bathroom where she got quietly sick.

“Will it help?” Renee asked. She’d taken up a spot against the wall outside the kitchen a little while ago and stood there still, watching Neil as he gathered up his notes.

“I hope so,” Neil said, avoiding her further as he disappeared downstairs without another word.

Andrew stayed behind and met Renee’s deceptively calm gaze.

“Do you think I’d put her through that if it weren’t important?” Andrew said.

Renee’s expression softened slightly. “I know you wouldn’t. But not everyone has the same priorities as you, Andrew.”

He watched her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Renee raised a careful eyebrow. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And how you look at him. I understand. I really do.” She paused, waiting for a reaction that Andrew refused to give. Her gaze softened further. “Remember that you and Neil are not alone here. I’m here. We all are. This is what it means to be pack. To be family.”

*******

It wasn’t for nothing. Working every possible angle, Kevin sifted through maps and records and correspondence and hunted down each lead until he found either a dead-end or a new clue. In another life, maybe he’d been a bloodhound, Andrew mused.

One trail, one place Robin recalled visiting over a dozen times, lined up with a location Neil knew from his childhood. A tiny town on the coast of Massachusetts. Insignificant, relatively unknown. And potentially a deadly blow to Evermore, if it meant what they thought it did.

The Trojans argued against it, initially.

“It’s a single location, if it even is a location,” Jeremy explained, hands clasped in front of him. He’d driven down from D.C. to meet with the Foxes. “I’m not saying I don’t trust your sources.” He gave Kevin a significant look. “But going after the wrong lead will cripple our efforts. Say it is the right place, and say we rescue every captive shifter in it, what about the guards, the medical staff, whoever else is running the place? We don’t have the resources to deal with that. Not yet. The network will go to ground.”

“Then involve law enforcement,” Matt shot out. “If we’re investigating this, then they are too, right? Tell them what we know and have them do the dirty work. We’ll be there to help the rescued shifters, just like we always are, and they get to arrest everyone else.”

Sitting beside Andrew, Neil paled visibly and stared at his lap. Law enforcement would want to know about their sources. They would want to know how Neil knew anything about that location.

“Yeah,” Dan piped in. “This is different from the trafficking. Literally nothing about the breeding farms is legal or could even be twisted into seeming legal. We’ll have dozens of witnesses, of all statuses, to attest to that.”

Suddenly, Neil turned to Kevin and said something angrily in French. Kevin blanched as all eyes in the room turned to them. Andrew crossed his arms, barely surprised, and watched as they shot rapid phrases back and forth. Finally, Neil sat back with a huff and gestured for Kevin to speak.

Kevin swallowed. “If someone from Evermore confirms this location is connected to them, would that be enough to incriminate them?”

David, who’d kept relatively quiet, leaned forward and fixed Kevin with a stare. “Who exactly did you have in mind?”

“Jean Moreau,” Neil said, when Kevin didn’t immediately answer. “His loyalty to Evermore is shaky at best. If we offered to get him out, he’d do it.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Allison said. “Riko’s sidekick? No way.”

“Kevin used to be Riko’s sidekick too,” Neil shot back.

David continued watching Kevin. “Kevin? Is Neil full of shit or not?”

Kevin sucked in a shaky breath, staring at his feet. “He’s right.”

The room erupted in scattered conversations which Andrew mostly ignored as he sat back and raised an eyebrow at Neil.

“Any other languages I should know about? Don’t tell me you understand Nicky’s German phone-sex conversations.”

Neil’s pained look said enough.

For the next two weeks, they all waited on bated breath while Kevin contacted Jean. If Jean agreed, if he confirmed, Pack Alphas from the Trojans, Palmetto, and whatever other allied packs they could get on board would pay a visit to the FBI. They’d share all they knew about the breeding farms, keeping informant names out of the conversation. As part of the cooperation agreement, the Trojans and the Foxes would be part of the raid, and as an extra layer of precaution, Jeremy would have the ORC ready to sweep in to aid survivors immediately afterward. And equally as important, to make sure nothing got swept under the rug. Especially Evermore’s involvement.

Andrew didn’t ask about whatever conversation they had during those two weeks. In its place, he spent the time he could be worrying about that with Neil. Sometimes shifted, streaking through the woods, other times in very human skin that they pressed together in an increasingly familiar dance.

Neil hadn’t received any further communication from Lola Malcolm or anyone else since Atlanta. It didn’t take long for Andrew to track down Nathen Wesninski, now that he knew his name. He was still in prison but had a rapidly approaching parole date. Andrew didn’t mention that to Neil. He suspected he already knew anyway. Instead he kissed him just a little bit harder, wrapped his arms around him just a little bit tighter, reminding Neil that they were both here, now, and neither of them was going anywhere.

Finally, after an eternity of waiting, Jean responded to Kevin with a single word.

_Yes_.


	23. Chapter 23

For Neil, every day started with a two-minute routine. He woke up, opened his eyes, and breathed. The ever-present fear that lived at the core of his being breathed with him, slowly loosening its grip and settling into a quiet, dormant state. Still there, always there, but waiting. When he needed it, it would flare to life like a flame doused in gasoline, flooding his system with life-saving adrenalin and the bone-deep primal instinct of fight of flight that had kept him alive for years.

It had been a while since Neil needed to call on that part of himself. Thinking about Palmetto was like thinking about a dream. A beautiful, surreal dream that you’d give anything to simply sink back into your pillows, close your eyes, and experience again.

As Neil turned his back on the others, as he walked away with vice-like fingers gripping his arms and dread pooling in his gut, he realized it had all been a dream after all. And, finally, he was waking up.

*******

_Two weeks earlier_

Andrew’s sleep-mussed hair greeted Neil as he opened his eyes. The sight surprised him because Andrew never slept in Neil’s bed. If he did fall asleep by accident, he inevitably woke with a start at some point during the night and quietly retreated to his own space. If, on the other hand, Neil fell asleep in Andrew’s room, Andrew simply kicked him out. It didn’t offend Neil. Truthfully, he slept better on his own as well. Others might call it an odd routine, but neither Neil nor Andrew gave a shit what others would think anyway. It worked for them, and that was all that mattered.

“Why are you so loud?” Andrew muttered, squeezing his eyes further closed. A tiny wrinkle appeared between his brows and Neil reached out and poked it gently with his fingertip before he could think better of it.

Andrew’s eyes flew open and Neil froze, not sure what had come over him. Only Andrew, contrary to his core, solved the problem by tucking his head and burrowing down further into the covers, successfully sliding Neil’s hand into his hair instead. Neil tentatively scratched his fingers over Andrew’s scalp. The rewarding shiver made Neil smile and he did it again.

They stayed like that for a while, Andrew half-buried in blankets, face ducked from view, while Neil played with his hair and found all the spots that made gooseflesh scatter across his skin and his breath occasionally stutter. Neil didn’t know quite what to make of it – neither of them were particularly prone to tenderness, after all. And yet, this moment felt far more intimate than any they had shared thus far. It was quiet and gentle, and Neil didn’t think he’d mind waking up like this every morning.

When Neil traced his finger over the shell of Andrew’s ear, Andrew sucked in a quick breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled shakily. He finally raised his head, still not saying anything, but studying Neil like one might study a confusing, if fascinating, puzzle. Andrew had called Neil that, once upon a time: a puzzle.

“Have you solved me yet?” Neil asked softly, teasingly.

Andrew raised an eyebrow and responded by sliding further up the bed and attacking Neil’s mouth with his own.

“That’s not an answer,” Neil gasped between kisses. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“I don’t know.” Andrew shifted his weight to press between Neil’s legs. “Is this distracting?”

Neil shut up.

Andrew pushed Neil over the edge quickly, swallowing his frantic gasps. Neil could feel the evidence of Andrew’s arousal through his clothing, pressed against his hip. When Andrew didn’t make a move to attend to himself, Neil pulled back enough to speak.

“Do you need me to go?” Neil asked. Because sometimes Andrew did.

Andrew didn’t respond and went back to kissing him. At first, Neil didn’t realize he had shifted his position slightly, and he didn’t take note of the absence of one of Andrew’s hands. At least until Andrew’s breath started to quicken and the reason for the muscles flexing in his arm became apparent.

Neil kissed him harder, carefully keeping his eyes from wondering lower. It didn’t take long for Andrew to stiffen against him. He ducked his head again, breathing hard, and groaned softly as he finished.

Neil kept his hand resting on Andrew’s head, maintaining contact but not moving as he waited for Andrew to gather himself. Oftentimes that meant separating immediately, while on other less frequent occasions they would stay near each other while Andrew silently fought whatever battles went on inside his head at these times.

Today he didn’t move immediately. When he did, it was without urgency and he trailed a hand across Neil’s abs before sliding off the bed and retreating quietly to the bathroom. The shower cut on a moment later.

Feeling boneless and content, Neil sprawled on the mattress and dozed a tiny bit before Andrew finished up and he could take his own turn in the shower. As he gathered up an armful of clean clothes, his phone buzzed on the bedside table. Neil grabbed it and flipped it open. The quiet calm of his morning vanished instantly as he read Kevin’s message.

The raid was on.

*******

It all took less time to come together than anyone anticipated. Even with multiple leads, Neil knew everything could fall through at a moment’s notice, especially with the inclusion of multiple packs, federal, and now local law enforcement. And of course, the unofficial oversight of the Omega Rights Commission.

Jean Moreau remained an anonymous source within the Evermore pack and would do so until he’d been successfully extracted. Every time that conversation came up, Kevin turned away with a guilty look on his face as if he didn’t believe it would really happen. Part of Neil agreed with him. Jean clearly had good instincts to have survived as long as he had at Riko’s side, and Neil had a feeling Jean himself didn’t expect to survive this betrayal. Jean had made his choice though, as they all had. At the very least, they could honor his sacrifice and see the plan to fruition.

By all accounts, Rockport, Massachusetts was insignificant in every way. Less than an hour’s drive north of Boston, it hugged the coast and boasted of fresh lobster and artisanal coffee. An independent territory, it drew many artists, migrant workers, and curious tourists to its charmingly quaint streets. If stopping a random person on the sidewalk in Rockport, they would say the most exciting thing to happen that week was a produce stand getting blown into the water at the weekly farmer’s market. Nothing of note happened in Rockport.

Only Neil, and now everyone else, knew different.

He’d never visited himself, but he knew quiet, unassuming Rockport was an important trading spot for his father’s network. It turned out the repurposed warehouses and shipping yards housed and traded in something much more precious than drugs or weapons however.

Only some of the Foxes would be involved in the actual raid. The feds hadn’t taken kindly to any outside involvement, or so Neil had heard, but David refused to budge without guarantee of their inclusion. They, along with other packs, would span the perimeter to watch for anyone able to slip through the FBI’s net. They were meant to alert, not engage. These people were highly dangerous, after all, and the average shifter did not have the training to deal with such threats. (Neil had learned how to breakdown, clean, and reassemble a gun before first grade, but he didn’t mention that to anybody).

Upon arriving in Rockport, Neil expected to feel the anxiety that crept up his spine like cold, slippery fingers. Since running away, he’d stayed as far away from his father’s people as possible. Willingly divulging information and then stepping foot onto soil that his father himself had likely walked on? It felt like stepping onto his own grave.

“You don’t have to be here,” Kevin said quietly, standing beside him as he stared out across the deceivingly calm water. The setting sun cast sparkles and skips of light across the waves.

Neil swallowed and shook his head. “Neither do you. You’ve already told them everything they need to know.”

Kevin crossed his arms and shrugged, looking tense. “I do. Have to be here. You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re atoning for what you did as a Raven,” Neil said. Kevin shot him a look. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he looked away just as quickly.

“Nothing I do now can change any of that,” Kevin said stiffly. “But I still have to try.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

Kevin continued. “You think you have to atone for your father being who he is, don’t you?”

This time Neil was the one to tense and look away. Kevin was right, of course. That didn’t mean he had to admit it.

“You can be better,” Kevin said suddenly. “I can see it, now that you’re finally putting in some effort. You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for someone to come along and change all this. This.” He gestured around them. “Is just a beginning. But it will make a difference. You can make a difference.”

Neil didn’t know how to respond. Kevin seemed to tolerate him on the best of days and was outright scathing on others. Hearing him compliment and encourage Neil? Unprecedented.

They were saved by any further awkwardness by the door opening behind them and Matt stepping out. Dressed in head to toe black, he looked more like an assassin than the easy-going, earnest man Neil knew him to be.

Matt smiled a little, noticing Neil’s scrutiny. “I know, right? Never realized these things had a dress-code before.”

“Would you rather be a giant, shining target for a bullet?” Kevin sneered. Turning his back, he stalked away before Matt could respond.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Glad to see he’s in a good mood. But, should either of you really be out here? In case someone recognizes one of you?”

Neil’s pulse thrummed a little. “It’s fine. Here, at least. If they have someone on the inside, then we’re already fucked.”

“Um,” Matt blinked. “That’s positive. I’m saying this as a friend, but I think you’ve been spending too much time with Kevin.”

Neil snorted softly and rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Matt clapped him on the back. “No worries, man. We’ve all got nerves about tonight. Even Andrew, whom I’m pretty sure is made of stone.”

Neil had good evidence to the contrary, not that he’d share that with Matt. He shrugged.

Neither Neil or Kevin would guard the perimeter with the others. Matt, Dan, Andrew, and Renee would help with that, while Neil stayed with the others and helped see to the rescued shifters. They didn’t know what to expect exactly, only that whoever came out of that building would be scared and likely traumatized. They would need a lot of help, and the Foxes knew how to handle that.

*******

Waiting sucked. Volunteers and medical staff coordinated by the ORC had set up shop in an old, abandoned gymnasium several miles from town. For a dizzying moment, it reminded Neil of the gym where he’d been caged and helpless, nearly sold off to an unknown fate. It was also the first time he saw Andrew, he reminded himself, eyes flashing beneath the bleachers as the Foxes slipped in and quietly turned Neil’s world upside down.

Abby was there, helping organize the volunteers. She explained how they’d decided to set up separate areas for omegas, betas, and alphas. Based on what they knew of the breeding farms, the line between victim and perpetrator would be inherently fuzzy, and they would do their best to alleviate any further distress caused by forcing everyone all together.

Allison, Nicky, and Aaron were all there as well. Apparently, Aaron studied with Abby in his spare time, with plans of eventually attending medical school. Neil suspected Aaron’s bedside manner would be worse than his brother’s, but then, with some bemusement, he witnessed Aaron talking quietly and patiently with a young nurse and wondered if he really knew him at all.

“That’s Katelyn,” Nicky said in a hushed voice, coming to a stop beside Neil. “Aaron’s ‘secret’ – ” he made air-quotes, “girlfriend.”

Neil glanced doubtfully back at Aaron and the nurse. “Someone can actually stand him enough to date him?”

Nicky grinned. “I know. Miracle of miracles, right? He’s freaked out about Andrew scaring her off though because, well, Andrew is Andrew. So that’s why all the supposed secrecy.”

“Why would Andrew care who he dates?”

Nicky shrugged. “Because Aaron can be stupid, and Andrew is a know-it-all?” He laughed lightly. “Aaron will have to man up eventually. I mean, what if he found out Andrew was dating someone? Then he’d just look dumb for not saying anything.”

“They’ve very dramatic, aren’t they,” Neil observed.

Nicky’s smile widened. “My cousins, the drama-queens. If it ever gets back to them that I said that, I’m blaming you.”

It wasn’t long before the first wave of rescues arrived. Neil floated around wherever he was needed, mostly passing out blankets and water to the twenty of so shifters that arrived. Mostly omegas and betas, Neil quickly realized, males and females, and most in some state of obvious pregnancy. Neil squashed down the uneasy feelings that arose from that. He’d never been comfortable thinking about what his own body was capable of, especially after all those years spent passing as a beta, and seeing the evidence of it now in others, forced on them in the worst of ways, made him feel anything but good.

“Neil,” Abby called, stopping him as he headed back to the supply table. Neil paused.

“There’s an omega that managed to shift, and I’m not having any luck talking him back,” Abby said quietly, nodding toward the far corner. “I was wondering if you might give it a try.”

“I doubt he’ll listen to me,” he hedged. “But I guess.”

Neil carefully approached the corner cot. He didn’t even see the omega at first, not until he caught sight of a tiny, shivering form hunched underneath the cot. A ferret, Neil realized. Possibly the smallest shifter form he had ever seen.

Crouching down a few feet away, Neil kept his arms and hands close, making himself as small and non-threatening as possible.

“Hi,” he said, feeling awkward. “I’m Neil. Uh, it’s really okay to shift back now. If you want.”

The ferret bared its tiny teeth and hunched further in on itself, shivering wildly.

Neil sighed softly. “Look, I’m not really good at this stuff. I did used to be like you though. Not…” He grimaced. “Not the same, but I was in a cage and they got me out. I promise, it’s safe here. No one is going to hurt you anymore.”

The ferret didn’t move. Not sure what else to do, Neil settled down on the floor and talked to him quietly. He told him about Palmetto. About how omegas were equal. How they had choice and freedom, but also respect. He told him about Andrew, and how he did crazy shit like jump into rivers after strangers and jump into fights with alphas to defend his own. Slowly, very slowly, the little omega stopped shivering and then, in the blink of an eye, he shifted.

Neil quickly handed him a blanket, averting his eyes and turning his head away until he heard the omega crawl out from under the cot and settle on top. When he did look, he felt almost sick at what he found. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, skinny, dark-haired, and swollen belly visible through the tightly wrapped blanket.

“What’s your name?” Neil asked.

The dark head bowed, hiding his eyes. “Ian,” he answered in a small voice. A shiver worked its way through him.

Neil quickly found him some clothes and helped shield the cot while Ian changed. Worried he’d shift again if Neil left, he waited until he managed to catch Abby’s eye and nod her over. He nearly did shift again at Abby’s approach, but between the two of them they were able to calm him down enough to at least accept some food and water.

Many other rescued shifters arrived while Neil talked Ian out from under the cot. He glanced around, equal parts amazed and horrified at what he saw. Staff and volunteers not included, there had to be more than sixty new people, bringing the total count of rescues over eighty.

Neil felt a little lurch when he spotted Andrew’s pale hair moving through the crowd toward him. Was it really over? Had they done it?

Some sort of commotion swept through the crowd and suddenly an alpha in a torn jacket came barreling toward the omega area, toward the corner Neil and Ian occupied because it was closest to an exit. Neil heard alarmed cries and shouts of ‘he’s one of them!’. Behind him, Ian made a horrified sound and the rustle of clothes said he’d shifted again. Neil braced himself, ready to grab Ian and run.

Andrew slammed into the alpha from the opposite direction. Neil hadn’t even seen him move. Momentum threw them both to the ground, Andrew landing on the bottom with an audible grunt. He shoved the alpha off him, assisted by multiple hands as two other men grabbed hold, yanking him to his feet. Andrew started to roll to his side and paused, coughing as he sucked air into his lungs. He’d had the wind knocked out of him.

Before Neil could think better of it, he darted forward, pulled back his fist, and punched the alpha squarely in the nose. The alpha howled, head snapping back as blood burst down his face. He wanted to do it again, would have, if not for Matt pulling him back.

“Whoa there, slugger,” Matt said, wrapping an arm around Neil’s chest and physically dragging him back a few steps. “We got him. That’s enough.”

“Get off me,” Neil snapped. He shrugged out of Matt’s grip and turned back to check on Andrew, who’d gotten to his feet. He met Neil’s gaze with a bored look and crossed his arms.

Neil lost track of time as the night went on. After talking Ian back into human form once more, he continued passing out supplies, cleaning up food and drink bottles as they were consumed. Faces all bled together after a while, though the same haunted look sat in many of their eyes.

It felt like a momentary relief when Abby sent him downstairs to replenish their supply of ibuprofen and acetaminophen. The supply room was quiet and deserted and Neil could hear himself think for the first time in what seemed like hours. His phone buzzed. When it kept buzzing, he realized it was a call, and not just a text. He froze. While he didn’t recognize the number, he knew which city used a 443-area code.

Lifting the phone to his ear felt like moving through water. Neil closed his eyes.

“Who is this?” he said.

A voice on the other end laughed. A tinkling, high-pitched laugh that sent shivers crawling down Neil’s spine.

“Is that any way to greet a long, lost friend?” Lola greeted. “And here I thought your father had taught you better manners than that.”

Neil blinked a few times, struggling to push down the panic that threatened to eat him alive.

“How did you get this number?”

“Oh no, that’s not how this is going to go, Junior. I’ll be the one asking the questions. You’ll be the one coming quietly along. Understood?”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Neil said. He clenched his free hand into a fist in an effort to stop the trembling.

Lola laughed again. “Did the little fox grow his teeth? What a surprise. I’m sure your father will yank those right out. Maybe literally.”

“My…” Neil swallowed. It felt like swallowing shards of glass. “My father is in prison. In Seattle. Maybe you hadn’t heard.”

Lola made a buzzing sound. “Nope, try again. Your father is in Baltimore and he’s less than pleased that you missed out on his home-coming party. You really should’ve been there. There was blood and furs and heads rolling left and right. My kind of party. Oh, but wait, you’ve been keeping different company these days, haven’t you?”

Neil thought he’d been ready for this. To face whatever happened as a result of not running, of revealing himself and offering what he had. He’d been lying to himself. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to go with Lola. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to go home, to Palmetto. He wanted to go on a run with Matt in the morning. He wanted to kiss Andrew again.

“Fuck you, Lola,” Neil ground out. “And fuck my father. I’m never going back there. I made my own life.”

“You think you have the right to decide that?” Lola snarled. “You are nothing and nobody and you will remember that before you die.”

“You’ll regret it if you touch me.” Neil forced himself to take a deep breath. “And even more so if you touch them. Don’t even think about coming after us.”

“Oh, but Junior, didn’t I mention? We’re already here.”

Neil’s thoughts froze. He could still feel the frantic thumping of his heart, could hear his too-quick breathing, but nothing seemed real.

“What?” he asked faintly.

“It’s really not that hard, putting someone where you want them,” Lola explained. “We heard word about the raid – little too late to do anything about it unfortunately – but then we heard that your silly little pack might be involved, and I said, hey, let’s see if Nathanial tags along? Surely, he wouldn’t make it so easy for us, right?”

Neil closed his eyes. He counted to ten. First in English, then French, then German.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“That little weasel you talked to all night? I bet it’d look adorable roasting on a spit. What do you think?”

Neil’s stomach sunk to his feet and any remaining threads of hope turned to dust. They had him. Lola knew it. Neil knew it.

“You can’t do this,” Neil said. “My pack will know I’m gone. They’ll come after me. You can’t take out an entire pack.”

“Let them come,” Lola hissed. “We might not able to kill them, but we can hurt them. Wait and see.”

She hung up before Neil could protest.

Neil walked up the stairs on wooden legs. Each step felt like an insurmountable hurdle, but somehow, he made it to the top and walked back into the gymnasium. He immediately felt a presence at his back and glanced over his shoulder to find Jackson Plank smiling at him. At the far exit, Neil spotted Romero Malcolm standing casually against the wall. They both wore volunteer badges around their necks. 

“Walk to the far exit and keep going,” Jackson murmured, stepping up behind him. “Any funny business and I start shooting the littlest ones first.”

As he walked, everything started slipping away. Everything Neil had become, had hopes of becoming, disappeared like sand falling through open fingers. It was almost a shock when Andrew stepped in front of him, interrupting his trajectory. Neil rocked to a halt and stared. He already had every inch of Andrew’s face committed to memory, but he still needed to look, just one last time.

Andrew cocked his head to the side questioningly. “What are you doing?”

Neil shook his head. “Nothing. Just… gathering supplies. Didn’t find what I needed downstairs.”

“Try not to punch anyone else before you’re done,” Andrew said. He started to turn away and Neil grabbed for his sleeve. Andrew’s eyes flicked down to Neil’s hand then up to his face.

“Thank you,” Neil said softly. “You were amazing.”

Neil couldn’t say what for. He hoped Andrew understood. If not now, then someday. Andrew studied him a moment longer before he started to walk away.

“Neil,” he called.

Neil glanced back, seeing Andrew had paused once more.

“Yeah?”

“If they’re ordering more supplies, tell them we need ice cream. And cigarettes.”

Neil choked out a small laugh. “Okay.” That time, Andrew didn’t pause as he left. He disappeared into the crowd and Neil’s vision blurred as he watched him go.

Jackson poked him in the back. “Keep moving.”

As soon as they passed through the door, Jackson and Romero flanked Neil on either side, fingers digging mercilessly into his arms as they led him toward a waiting car. The door opened. A familiar perfume wafted out and Neil closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his last free breath. His last breath as Neil Josten.

Nathaniel opened his eyes and got in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, kids....


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic violence

Nathaniel couldn’t stop shivering. Despite the relative warmth of the car, the blood inside his veins had turned to icy slush, freezing him in place, each frantic heartbeat pushing and pulling at the frozen center of his chest that had once been a heart.

Shoved in the back seat next to Lola, wrists cuffed around the seat behind him, Nathaniel did his best to ignore the intent stare boring into the side of his head. Other than asking Romero to confirm no one saw them leave, Lola had said nothing since leaving the gymnasium in Rockport. Nathaniel couldn’t see a clock, so he instead counted the mile markers as they sped down the freeway, south, toward Boston. Toward Baltimore. He estimated around a seven-hour drive between Rockport and Baltimore. Over four-hundred miles. Four-hundred miles until he came face to face with his father. 

The Foxes would notice him missing in half that time. He had no doubt about that. Andrew had probably noticed his absence already. But he tried not to think about it. It felt like clinging to a false hope. He’d said goodbye to hope when he got in this car. Nathaniel was no longer waiting to face the inevitable. The inevitable had arrived, and now that the waiting was over, he felt an odd sense of peace.

It had been worth it, to live before he died.

He counted eighty-three mile markers before Lola cleared her throat. Nathaniel turned toward her and tried not to react to the site of a wicked, curved blade in her palm. It was nothing like Andrew’s blades. Those existed for utility and protection. Lola’s blades were made to hurt. Lola’s blades sung with the promise of inflicted pain and Nathaniel knew she would enjoy every second of it.

Lola smiled, noticing his attention. “So,” she started in a slow, calm voice, “who did you tell?”

“No one,” Nathaniel answered quickly. “Do I look stupid to you?”

She pursed her lips. “To be determined. But I think we need to try that one again. Who did you tell?” As she spoke, she casually caressed the engraved handle of the knife resting against her thigh. Nathaniel remembered this knife. Had witnessed its descent into the flesh of countless others, including his own.

He swallowed. His mouth felt like a desert. “Kevin recognized me, okay? But he wouldn’t say anything. He’s too scared of the Moriyamas.”

“As he should be,” Lola agreed. She leaned forward, crowding into his space, and Nathaniel fought the urge to shrink away. “So, tell me, Junior, if you didn’t blab, and he didn’t blab… How did anyone find out about Rockport?”

In the blink of an eye, before he could fathom a response, Lola grabbed a fistful of Nathaniel’s hair, slamming his head back against the seat while raising the knife and resting its tip just below his right eye.

“Think before you speak,” Lola purred, leaning in close. “Or I’ll pop out one pretty eye at a time.”

Nathaniel fought to control his breathing. “I didn’t tell. I didn’t – ”

Lola dragged the knife down his cheek. Sheer iron-willed control was the only thing that kept Nathaniel from jerking at the pain – if he moved too much, she’d make good on the threat to take his eye. 

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, and cut him again. And again.

It wasn’t a lie, Nathaniel rationalized, as tears and sweat blurred his vision. _He_ hadn’t told. _Neil_ had told. And Neil wasn’t here right now. He was gone, left in a parking lot on the coast of Massachusetts.

Lola pulled back long enough for Nathaniel to catch his breath. He could feel blood dripping down his face, pooling in the crook of his neck and soaking the hem of his t-shirt. Good thing he wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning it later, he thought. Blood was a pain in the ass to remove from clothing.

Lola said something to either Jackson or Romero, followed by an odd clicking noise. Nathaniel couldn’t make sense of it until Lola grinned and waved a cigarette lighter in front of his face, its coils glowing hot. Nathaniel’s breath caught and he shrunk back.

“You’re sick,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes off the heated metal. He could feel its warmth on his skin already, even several inches away.

“And you’re a little liar,” Lola responded. “Someone else knows about you. You will tell me who.” Her fist tightened in his hair. “Now, try not to move.”

“No, Lola – ”

Lola pressed the lighter to his cheek. She’s said not to move, but he had no hope of complying. Nathaniel’s body jerked of its own accord as agony exploded through his face, knifing down his neck, his arms, out his fingertips. He distantly realized the screaming was his own, awful wretched cries torn from the depths of his being. The pain was so great that he didn’t realize at first when she pulled the lighter away, leaving behind the sickening smell of charred flesh. Nathaniel gasped and panted, stomach roiling.

Lola trailed a fingernail down his ruined cheek. Nathaniel recoiled, yanking on his cuffed hands. His nerve endings were on _fire_.

“You’re almost as stubborn as your father,” Lola commented. She made it sound like a compliment. “But don’t worry.” She patted his cheek again, making him jerk. “I’m a professional. We’ll get to the bottom of things, you and I.”

*******

He didn’t know how much time had passed. The world consisted solely of pain. After getting bored with his face, Lola had angled herself into the seats behind him and cut and burned a path up and down his arms. She asked about his mother, about Palmetto, about Rockport. Nathaniel repeated the same answers over and over. Finally, he stopped saying anything at all. That didn’t stop the knife from dragging fiery trails through his skin or the repeated sizzle of burning flesh.

He must have passed out at some point because he realized the car had stopped moving. A door slammed as Lola exited the vehicle and Nathaniel found himself mercifully alone for a brief few minutes. He shoved the pain aside, stuffed down the fear and horror of what was happening to him, and slowly, painstakingly cataloged his injuries.

Nothing life-threatening, he noted. The burns on his face hurt the worst, but it was his hands that would cause the most hindrance if the chance arose to escape. He very carefully flexed his fingers, felt the torn skin stretch and the burns pulse with heat that spiked up to his shoulders. And he was bleeding. Enough to slicken his hands as it dripped steadily from his fingertips. Enough to weaken him. Not enough to kill him.

Dropping his head forward, Nathaniel forced himself to breathe and swallowed back his growing nausea. He’d survived worse than this. He’d never given up before.

_Keep fighting_, Andrew had told Neil – told Nathaniel? He said he’d try. He had tried. Had he tried hard enough? Wasn’t that the reason he was here? Nathaniel squeezed his eyes shut, tried to clear his vision of blood, sweat, tears – it was difficult to tell which – and to clear his mind. He just needed to think.

The car door yanked open. Nathaniel flinched as Romero quickly removed the handcuffs before hauling him from the vehicle. It took a moment to find his footing, and he barely got to glance around as they marched him toward the open trunk of a police car. Distantly, Nathaniel realized it had Maryland plates. His chest clenched painfully. He’d lost track of time, but didn’t think they could be that close already. The beta cop standing beside the parked car looked distinctly uncomfortable as he took in Nathaniel’s appearance, but he said and did nothing as Romero and Jackson shoved him inside.

His heart thumped painfully at the idea of being so confined. The rhythm doubled when Lola crawled in after him, twining her body around his and pressing a gun to his brow. She raised a finger to her lips and smiled right before the trunk slammed shut.

They rode in silence for some time. No longer able to count mile-markers or concentrate on any external stimuli, Nathaniel resorted to counting silently, as high as he could go, in every language he knew. It worked for a while. But he kept getting distracted. Couldn’t help but feel Lola’s body wrapped around his own or the cool kiss of metal against his forehead.

“You know you’re not awful to look at,” Lola said in a low voice. “An omega like you could be living in the lap of luxury, if you’d just done what you were told.”

Her breath puffed hotly against Nathaniel’s over-sensitized skin, making him shudder. “You mean live in Riko’s lap.” His voice came out hoarse and strained. “As his slave.”

Lola chuckled. “Don’t be so dramatic. Would you rather live in a cage and get bred every nine months like a good little baby-making machine?”

Nathaniel recoiled. When she kept talking, describing exactly how awful his life could have been, he tried his best to ignore her, to let her hateful words slide off and disappear.

“If you were a little older, I might consider keeping you for myself,” Lola continued, rubbing herself against him in a lewd imitation of intimacy. Revulsion flooded through Nathaniel, momentarily hotter than the burns littering his skin.

“You’re a sick fuck…” he ground out, unheeding of the consequences.

Lola just chuckled again. “You have no idea, Junior.” She tapped the gun against his skull. “Here’s hoping you get to find out soon.”

*******

Panic-edged delirium set in at some point. Nathaniel’s thoughts flitted from one horror scenario to another. How long had he been in the dark? Would that be how they killed him – burying him alive? How bad could dismemberment be, really? Shock and blood-loss would probably kill him before anything else. Then again, his father hadn’t gained his title for nothing…

After what seemed like hours – days – Lola’s phone buzzed, jerking Nathaniel back to awareness. He blinked hard as the trunk lit up briefly with the light of her screen as she glanced at a text.

Putting her phone down, she shifted, pressing more tightly around Nathaniel as she grabbed for something behind him. He closed his eyes, tried to think past the weight of her body against his own. The sharp smell of chemicals invaded the air and he understood why a moment later when Lola pulled back, a soaked cloth in one hand.

“We can do this easy or hard,” she said. “Personally, I prefer the latter.”

Nathaniel forced down the dread clawing at his throat and raised his head slightly, allowing better access to his mouth and nose.

“Just do it.”

So she did.

*******

Nathaniel woke on the basement floor of his childhood home.

Even fuzzy from the drugs, he immediately recognized the dank room. He remembered its smell, more than anything. The overly sweet scent of mold, the metallic tang of blood, the underlying stench of death.

Gingerly, he tested his ability to move. Pain reignited like a torch, leaving him a jittery, shaking mess. In mere hours, the injuries had settled into his bones, steeping him in feverish sweats and bone-shaking shivers. His fingers were so swollen he couldn’t tell where one began and another ended. And his face… he didn’t want to think about his face. By some miracle, he still had both his eyes. For however long that would last.

He managed to drag himself into a sitting position. Leaning heavily against the wall, he realized both Lola and Romero stood together at the bottom of the stairs, talking quietly. They hadn’t realized he was awake yet.

“You used the cops to get me inside,” Nathaniel croaked. He swallowed thickly, desperate for water. “Is there anyone you haven’t paid off?”

Lola’s gaze snapped to him and she smiled. “Little baby’s finally awake. About time. Your father’s been waiting.”

The last time he was in a room with his father, Nathan Wesninski beat Nathaniel’s mother to death with a metal pipe. She didn’t die immediately though. It took hours. The horrific internal injuries, even if treated immediately, likely would have killed her anyway. She’d known that, of course. Those last hours of driving, running as fast and far as possible, had all been for him.

The door opened, casting light down the stairs. Footsteps. Each step creaking and groaning with the figure’s descent. Nathaniel felt himself pulled to his feet, as if by puppet strings, so deeply ingrained was the instinct to stand in his father’s presence. His vision tunneled as Nathan came into view. Panic beat a steady rhythm inside his body, but he could do nothing, could say nothing, as Nathan stepped up and wrapped a hand around Nathaniel’s throat. He didn’t squeeze, just held, cold eyes boring into him.

“Where is your mother?” he asked.

“Dead,” Nathaniel forced out through numb lips. “You killed her in Seattle.”

Nathan stared at him. “Do you believe him?” He directed the question to Lola, without looking.

Behind them, Lola cleared her throat. “I do.”

Nathaniel gulped as the fingers around his neck tightened ever so slightly.

“She cost me a lot of money.” Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You cost me a lot of money. You probably think I’m going to kill you now, don’t you?”

Nathaniel didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Because he didn’t know which option was worse. 

“I asked you a question,” Nathan growled, squeezing harder.

“Yes,” Nathaniel gasped. “Yes, you’re going to kill me.”

The pressure lifted somewhat. And then Nathaniel’s blood ran cold as his father slowly shook his head.

“No, Nathaniel. You won’t be dying today. You’re far too valuable. Arranging a new bill of sale for you won’t be difficult.” He leaned in, eyes narrowing. “First though, I will make sure you’re never able to run again. You won’t need legs for what’s in store for you. And perhaps not a tongue.”

Horror constricted Nathaniel’s throat far more than his father’s fingers. His legs wobbled so badly he knew he’d fall without the grip around his neck.

“Just kill me,” Nathaniel choked. “Please.”

His father ignored him. Dropping his hand, he turned to Lola. “Sit him against the wall and stretch out his legs.”

Lola’s face stretched into a wide, hungry grin. She stepped up and grabbed hold of Nathaniel’s arm. In retrospect, he didn’t know what came over him at that point. Pure, survival instinct, perhaps. As Lola shouldered him toward the wall, Nathaniel threw his head back with every ounce of strength he had left. It connected with a resounding crack and Lola screamed.

Without support, Nathaniel collapsed, legs folding beneath him. He barely refrained from reaching out his hands to stop his fall, instead letting his knees crack sharply against the cement. He barely felt it.

“Little asshole!” Lola’s fist caught him in his ruined cheek. The world flared bright and the next thing he knew, he was facedown on the ground. It felt blessedly cool against his feverish skin.

“Wake the fuck up!”

Lola’s voice. Nathaniel wanted to ignore it, wanted so badly to keep laying there. The ground had never felt so soft. Weight suddenly settled against his back. He grunted, unable to breathe properly.

“Your father got tired of waiting for you,” Lola hissed, straddling him and yanking his head up by a fistful of hair. “He’ll be back soon, but he told me to keep you company while you wait.”

His hair pulled tighter, tugging back and forth. Nathaniel didn’t understand the sensation at first, not until the pressure abruptly released and Lola dropped a clump of dark hair by his face.

“He doesn’t like your hair.” She yanked his head up again. “I could scalp you completely, but we don’t want you to look _too_ disgusting.”

Nathaniel blanked out as Lola sawed and tugged, sawed and tugged, dropping fistful after fistful of dark curls by his head. The last part of Neil, cut away, piece by piece.

He didn’t know how long she kept at it, too awash in pain and fear to pay attention. He could feel himself trembling, but it felt distant, removed. Shock, he noted absently. That was good. Better to not be fully aware when his father returned.

The next time Nathan’s footsteps echoed down the stairs, Nathaniel didn’t bother getting up. What difference would it make at this point? What more could he do to him than was already planned?

He watched through blurry eyes as Nathan picked up an ax on the far side of the room. Its dull edge glinted in the dim light. He swung it around experimentally, as if testing its weight. As if he didn’t know exactly how to wield it to cause the maximum amount of pain and damage.

Something tickled Nathaniel’s nose. Literally. He blinked, struggling to focus on the sudden wash of beige before his eyes, blocking his view of Nathan. The beige blurred, moved, pressed itself against the underside of his chin. Suddenly, as if snapping back to life, Nathaniel could smell. And what he smelled, beyond the stench of mildew and his own blood, was another shifter. The shifter who was pressing itself carefully out of view beneath his chin. A tiny, delicate nose sniffed and nudged gently at him, a move made to reassure, to calm.

He’d never seen Renee’s other form before.

Nathaniel’s lips cracked and bled as they slowly stretched into a smile.

“Surprise, assholes,” he whispered. Just before the door exploded.

*******

Andrew paced back and forth like a caged animal. If they didn’t let him in _soon_, he was going to either punch a person or a wall. Possibly both. The feds had refused to let anyone near the house before the strike team called an all-clear. Once they had the Butcher’s people subdued, once Nathan himself was either captured or killed, then the Foxes could go in. Initially, Andrew refused. He was fucking going. He didn’t care what they said. Only when they threatened to handcuff him to David, and not let him in at all, did he finally relent.

Sensing his distress, Renee caught Andrew’s gaze during that conversation and gave him the tiniest of nods. Polite and unassuming as always, she excused herself to the bathroom and slipped quietly away. If any of the Foxes had noticed her absence, they hadn’t said a thing. David included.

Renee could get in, Andrew knew. And she would. She wouldn’t be able to do much, but at least she could let Neil know he wasn’t alone. That was more than Andrew was doing currently and it was _driving him fucking insane._

After what felt like hours, the quiet neighborhood street erupted in chaos. Gunshots, squealing tires, and shouts filled the evening air. Feds and uniforms poured into the house like a swarm. Others picked off anyone trying to escape with either well-placed shots or tackling bodies.

Andrew watched it all from across the street, where they’d set up shop to wait. His heart thumped a staccato rhythm while he kept his eyes glued to the unfolding scene. When, at last, an agent nodded an okay and said ‘he’s in the basement’, Andrew didn’t wait to see who followed.

He passed by a dozen bodies on the way through the house, some bleeding and cuffed, others not moving at all. He didn’t care. Didn’t have a thought other than reaching the basement.

Andrew hurried down the stairs, shouldering his way past several uniforms. Amidst the blood-soaked scene that greeted him at the bottom, he saw a woman’s body sprawled against a wall and he saw an older man with auburn hair, wide blue eyes frozen open in death.

Breath hitched in his throat as Andrew saw Renee, a blanket draped over her shoulders as she knelt beside a still, unmoving body. Neil… He was… He couldn’t be…

“He’s alright,” Renee said softly, as Andrew dropped to his knees beside her. “He was awake when I got here. He’s just exhausted.”

Andrew barely recognized the bloody, pale face pressed against the cement. Thin, bloody lines covered what was visible of his cheek, intersected by a horrific, weeping center. A burn, Andrew realized distantly. With the utmost care, he traced shaking fingers over Neil’s scalp. The unfamiliar sensation of short, spiky hair sent tingles up his palm. 

Other people arrived, but Andrew couldn’t tear his eyes away from Neil long enough to notice, or care. Only when David tentatively touched his shoulder did he realize two paramedics stood beside him, trying to gain access.

Andrew’s adrenaline spiked and something close to a growl worked its way up his throat.

“Andrew,” Renee said. Gentle, as always. “Neil’s hurt. Let them help him.”

It took more willpower than Andrew knew he possessed to stand up and back away, just enough for the paramedics to work on Neil. He watched intently, tracking their every move. Finally, they carefully slid a board underneath Neil’s prone body and strapped him down. Andrew clenched his fists and forced himself to take a shaky breath, then he followed them upstairs and out to the waiting ambulance.

One of the paramedics tried to rattle off rules about family, but Andrew simply stared him down until he relented and waved impatiently for Andrew to hop inside. He settled on the bench and stayed quiet while wires and tubes got connected.

The heart monitor spiked briefly, just before Neil’s eyes slid open. His gaze was blurry, unseeing at first, at least until it settled on Andrew. Recognition dawned behind a wall of pain and Neil smiled.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Andrew’s heart clenched and he whispered back, “103%, Josten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew...
> 
> To clarify, Renee is a grasshopper mouse (tiny, adorable, bad-ass as hell)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry it's been longer than usual for this update! Life is crazy right now (for everyone!), and then I had an emergency dental fiasco while traveling for work. Not fun, I tell you. But I'm back! Hope you enjoy the latest chapter! :)

Andrew refused to leave Neil’s side. Arriving at the hospital, this became more complicated as the staff tried to stop him from following Neil into the ER. Only family, they said. It didn’t matter that they were pack. Or that Andrew and Neil were… well, whatever they were. Andrew only knew that he couldn’t lose sight of Neil, not again.

Never before had Andrew been thankful for the presence of law enforcement. The two FBI agents that accompanied them to the hospital spoke quietly to an administrator, earning curious glances from other patients and staff. Andrew ignored them. He paced in front of the staff-only entrance, never taking his eyes off the room they’d wheeled Neil into.

“They’re setting him up in a room now,” Agent Browning said. He propped a shoulder against the wall and studied Andrew with small frown. “You’ll be allowed inside, only if you stay out of the way and quiet. Got it?”

“Fine,” Andrew replied shortly.

It took about half an hour. By the time a nurse led Andrew to a private room, which the other agent was posted outside of, they’d changed Neil into a hospital gown and taped an IV to his arm. His eyes flew open when the nurse tapped on the door, widening slightly in surprise when he caught sight of Andrew.

“I’m surprised they let you back here,” Neil greeted a bit cautiously, glancing between Andrew and the agent at the door.

Andrew dropped into the chair next to the bed, eyes sweeping over Neil. He’d already gotten a good look at Neil’s injuries in the ambulance, but something about seeing them here, pressed against the white, sterile sheets, surrounded by wires and equipment made them that much worse. Anger sizzled beneath his skin and he clenched his fists to keep them from shaking.

Neil rested his head against the pillow, watching Andrew.

“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?” he asked.

Andrew tightened his fists and tried to focus on Neil’s eyes rather than the angry burn on his cheek, or the red, parallel lines up and down his face. “Eleven.”

“I’m sorry,” Neil said softly. Because he was an idiot, who apologized to others after getting kidnapped and tortured.

Andrew took a deep breath, forcing down the anger that nearly had him pulling back a fist to punch something. Or someone.

They sat quietly for a little while. Neil’s eyes fluttered, no doubt aided by whatever cocktail of drugs they were pumping into his body to quell the pain. Soon enough, a doctor and various nurses returned to treat Neil’s wounds. Andrew propped himself against the window, tracking every movement. He didn’t trust people on the best of days, and today had been anything but good.

Despite the painkillers, Neil flinched repeatedly and breathed shallowly while they cleaned and bandaged the wounds on his face and arms. Dime-sized burns decorated each of his knuckles, on the soft pad of flesh between his thumb and forefinger, up and down his arms. The careful, equal spacing told Andrew that whoever was responsible for those had taken their time. If they weren’t already dead, Andrew would make sure they were later.

By the time they finished, wrapping Neil in enough bandages to cover a mummy, Andrew’s tension had solidified into a heavy knot in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what would happen next, but if anyone tried to separate him from Neil, he would make them regret it.

Neil’s eyes found his again, heavy with exhaustion, right before Agent Browning and another man walked into the room. Browning gave Andrew a wary look before gesturing to the other agent, who produced a pair of handcuffs. Andrew shot up, one hand flying to the hidden knives beneath his armbands.

“Andrew,” Neil warned in a low voice. Then, to Browning, “Is that really necessary?”

Browning crossed his arms. “You’ve been on the run for almost a decade. No way we’re letting you slip away now.”

Neil sighed and rolled his eyes, sinking back into the bed. “What good would running do? I’ve already given you everything you need.”

“Everything we need, but not everything you have, right?” Browning said. He shook his head. “We’ve got enough to put you away for years, Nathaniel. Either you play the game our way, or we don’t play at all.”

Neil flinched slightly at the use of his given name, gaze skittering away momentarily.

“And you have jack shit if I decide not to cooperate,” Neil retorted with a scowl, looking back up. “I know it and you know it, so quit wasting my time.” He glanced at Andrew. “I want to see my pack.”

Browning matched Neil’s scowl. “Your pack? Who you lied to and endangered? They came after you out of duty. I’ll eat my sock if they still want anything to do with you now.”

Neil’s expression shuttered, doubt seeping past whatever walls he’d erected to survive the past twelve hours. Andrew bristled and reminded himself that drawing a knife on a federal agent probably wouldn’t help matters.

“I want to see them,” Neil pressed after a moment. “Otherwise I won’t talk. Your choice.”

Browning and Neil glared at each other until finally Browning sighed and waved the other agent away. “Fine. Once they discharge you, you can see them. And then you’re coming with us.”

*******

Anger continued to simmer beneath Andrew’s skin long after the agents left the room. Anger at them. Anger at Neil. Most of all, anger at himself. The Butcher’s people had walked Neil at gunpoint through a crowded, FBI-led operation. Past the other Foxes, past countless law enforcement. Past Andrew.

Andrew played the scene over and over in his mind. Perfect recall made that all too easy, of course. How had he not noticed the strange man walking behind Neil? How had he not seen Neil’s suddenly voiced gratitude as anything other than a goodbye? How had it taken him hours to realize Neil was nowhere to be found?

He thought about what happened to Neil during those hours. The evidence of the torture. The sheer, physical amount of pain he must have suffered. The fear and defeat Andrew saw traces of in his eyes still.

Neil hadn’t returned all the way. Not yet. He seemed normal enough. Mouthing off to the agents, rolling his eyes at Andrew’s stony silence. But there was an air of detachment about him. As if watching from inside himself, somewhere hidden, somewhere protected.

Andrew had to stand up and pace at one point. Because he understood. He knew what it was to stuff everything so far down that nothing could touch you, could hurt you. Andrew had been the one stripped down in a hospital bed, poked and prodded by strangers while they stitched him back together. And now Neil had taken his place.

Before he could stop himself, Andrew pulled back a fist and punched the wall as hard as he could. Pain shocked up his arm, making him grit his teeth. He did it again. One of his knuckles split open and he watched dispassionately as a drop of blood rolled down the back of his hand.

“Hey!” The agent posted at the door ducked his head inside. “Knock it off or you’re out of here!”

“Fuck off,” Andrew muttered, but he stepped away from the wall and turned his back on the door. He slumped into the chair beside Neil’s bed and cradled his throbbing hand to his stomach.

“Feel better?” Neil asked, watching him knowingly.

Andrew stretched and flexed his fingers to check the damage. “It was the wall or your face.”

Neil snorted softly. “Join the club.”

A muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumped. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t joke about this. You and your stupid martyr complex almost got you killed. Did you come up with that idiotic plan on your own, or do I need to punch Kevin again too?”

Neil blinked in surprise. “You punched Kevin?”

Andrew stared back silently.

“If I was really a martyr, I wouldn’t have taken the tracking chip, would I?” Neil said. His voice softened. “I didn’t want to die, Andrew.”

“Then why did Kevin go to the FBI before David?” Andrew said flatly. “You knew we’d go after you right away, not wait until you led us back to your father. That sure sounds like a death-wish to me.”

Neil watched him for a long moment. “There was a chance they’d kill me right away,” he finally said. “I didn’t want that to be for nothing. I had to take my father down with me.”

Andrew clenched his injured hand, savoring the stretch of bruised skin. “You should’ve told me.”

Neil raised an eyebrow. “Would you have gone through with it? Would you have let Kevin go through with it?”

“I hate you.”

Neil smiled slightly. “I know.”

Finally, they processed Neil’s discharge. After he changed into a pair of clean sweats and a t-shirt, Agent Browning led them to an elevator, though he pressed the up button instead of down.

“Where are we going?” Neil asked suspiciously, exchanging a look with Andrew.

Browning shook his head. “Your pack was causing a disruption in the lobby. We had them put in a private waiting room. There’s too much publicity with this, as it is.”

Andrew noticed Neil’s surprised, hopeful expression before he managed to hide it.

“They…” Neil cleared his throat. “They’re all here?”

Browning shrugged. “Everyone from the Rockport operation, at least,” he said. “You’ll have twenty minutes with them. Then we’re going.”

Neil gave a distracted nod.

Andrew followed Neil into the waiting room where they were greeted by shocked, horrified expressions and a few gasps. Besides Andrew, only Renee had seen the extent of Neil’s injuries beneath the white bandages, but the sheer amount of them told the story well enough.

“Oh my god, Neil,” Dan said, face pale as she stepped up to him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Neil said.

Andrew barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

David shook his head, expression hard as he took in Neil’s appearance. “We’re going to work on your definition of fine, Neil,” he said. “Now sit your ass down before you fall over.”

Instead of arguing, Neil just nodded and lowered himself into the nearest chair. He stared around the room and tried for a weak smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For coming after me.” He lowered his head, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I lied to you all.”

“Jesus, Neil, you don’t have to thank us,” Matt said, leaning forward. He watched Neil like it physically pained him to do so. “Of course, we came after you. You’re one of us.”

“Technically, he’s not,” Browning interjected. He’d followed them into the room. “Neil Josten doesn’t actually exist, and Nathaniel Wesninski belongs to Evermore.”

An immediate chorus of outraged comments filled the room. Andrew only had eyes for Neil though, who shuddered and ducked his head at the comment. Andrew pressed himself slightly closer, letting his fingers rest on the back of Neil’s neck. Across the room, Allison and Dan exchanged a knowing glance and Aaron’s brow furrowed as his gaze bounced between the two of them. Andrew really didn’t care.

“They won’t give me back to them,” Neil spoke up. The others quieted. “That would defeat the point of all of this. And he knows it.” He looked up, settling his stare on Browning. “Can you quit your useless posturing already? You’re wasting my twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” Nicky repeated. “Are you guys fucking serious?”

“Twenty minutes is a courtesy,” Browning shot back. “For your assistance in Rockport. Alpha, you really need to talk some sense into your pack.”

“Without Neil, we would never have known about Rockport,” David said flatly. “From what I understand.” He crossed his arms and frowned at Browning, who looked like he’d chewed on something sour. “And my pack is free to make their own decisions. Including Neil.”

Browning threw up his hands and waved at David to continue. “Have it your way.”

David raised his eyebrows before returning his attention to Neil. In all Neil’s time in Palmetto, Andrew had never failed to notice his reaction to David. It was an instinctual, knee-jerk reaction, Andrew knew. And he understood, considering Neil’s upbringing. But now, for the first time, as David knelt in front of Neil to face him eye to eye, Neil didn’t flinch away. He raised his head and met David’s gaze steadily.

“You tell me what you want to do here, Neil,” David said. “You are a part of this pack, if that’s what you want. If you need to do something else, that’s fine too. We’ll make it happen. But the choice is yours. Not any of ours. Not his.” He inclined his head toward the door. “What do you want to do?”

Silence stretched between them for a long moment. Finally, Neil said, “I want to stay.”

David nodded. “Okay. Twenty minutes is too short for the conversation we need to have, but we’ll be waiting for you to get back. However long it takes. Got it?”

Neil exhaled shakily. “Got it.”

*******

It felt like waking from a bad dream. One moment, he was Nathaniel, surviving the only way he knew how and preparing himself for the worst. Preparing himself to lose everything all over again. Andrew’s presence helped, but Nathaniel knew his loyalty lay with Neil, with a lie. Even so, he clung desperately to it. It wouldn’t last, he knew. Nothing ever did.

Only then the Foxes were there, crowded around him with worry and relief. Arguing in his defense. Calling him one of them. And David, he knelt before him, a Pack Alpha lowering himself to a lying omega’s level, asking him to make a choice. With the weight of Andrew’s fingers on his neck and the support of his pack filling the room, he made one. Neil decided to stay.

*******

It took the better part of two days for the FBI to question Neil. Andrew stayed with him the whole time, much to Browning’s annoyance. He knew most of it already, from all the time Neil and Kevin had spent hashing things out. Hearing the account of Neil’s missing hours made his blood pump faster, as did hearing Lola was still alive. Badly injured, but alive. Part of Neil and Kevin’s secret ‘if I get kidnapped’ plan involved turning over all the relevant information on the Butcher, though leaving out enough to make the feds hungry for more. It had worked.

They asked the same questions over and over, waiting for Neil to either slip up or add in additional details, Andrew didn’t know. Neil told them everything. What he remembered from growing up in his father’s household, the countless places he lived and aliases he used during his years on the run. He recounted his mother’s murder without emotion, including burning her body on the beach and burying what was left of her in the sand. Finally, he talked about getting snatched by the traffickers in Nashville, and his eventual rescue by Palmetto.

The conversation got a little cagey at that point, as the feds already knew about the Foxes’ more obscure activities and had actively utilized their help in Massachusetts. Even so, they couldn’t publicly acknowledge such things, so the questioning quickly jumped to other subjects.

“Now, there’s the matter of the incident in Columbia,” Towns, the agent in charge of questioning said. Neil stiffened perceptibly and Andrew gently bumped his leg underneath the table. Neil shot him a quick look.

Towns cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Of course, the case is still awaiting trial, but it seems like a clear-cut matter of self-defense.”

“If word gets out about who your father is,” Browning cut in, leaned back with his arms crossed. “There’s likely to be some doubt about that, however. It would be better if that didn’t happen.”

Neil frowned. “Meaning what exactly?”

“Meaning we’re making you Neil Josten, officially,” Towns said. He shoved a handful of papers across the table. “Since you’ve turned down witness protection. When you leave here, you will legally be Neil Josten, not Nathaniel Wesninski.”

“If you so much as think about changing your name again, we will have you behind bars faster than you can blink,” Browning added.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Neil said. “Just give me a pen.”

He quickly scrawled his signature on about a dozen different pages. ID, passport, social security card. Some others as well. Once finished, he pushed the papers back to Towns.

“Can’t you just get those charges dropped?” he asked. “You are the federal government, after all.”

Browning scowled. “You wanted Neil Josten to be real, you get to deal with the consequences.”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “Look at me. I’m pretty familiar with consequences. Are you?”

Somehow, Towns managed to steer them away from another verbal sparring session. Andrew was secretly amused. And had no doubt who would come away the victor.

Finally, they were free to go. Browning escorted them to the hotel where the Foxes had holed up for the last couple days. He gave David a tight nod, said “good luck”, and left.

Andrew was relieved to find only David and Abby in the room. Tired and on-edge, he figured Neil felt ten times worse. David glanced at them both before settling on Neil.

“We can stay the night here and rest, or hit the road. What do you think?”

“I hate Baltimore,” Neil replied. “Can we go?”

“You got it, kid,” David said. “I’ll round up the others and load up the van. Wheels up in half an hour.”

Neil sagged slightly in relief.

“Neil,” Abby said, gesturing for the bed. “Let me take a look at you.”

During the past two days, the only time Andrew had left Neil’s side was for a medic to change Neil’s bandages, so he hadn’t seen the damage since leaving the hospital. He stood behind Neil while Abby carefully peeled away the tape and gauze from his face. She didn’t say anything, but her expression said enough. When she moved to Neil’s arms, she sucked in a breath.

“Oh, Neil…” she said.

Uncharacteristically quiet so far, Neil glanced down at his arms and jolted, as if seeing them for the first time. Maybe it was, Andrew realized. At the hospital, he’d studiously stared at the ceiling while the doctors and nurses worked on him. Now he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. His breaths started coming a little too quickly, but he kept staring, frozen.

Andrew gripped the back of Neil’s neck and pushed him forward. He squeezed lightly. “Stop it.”

Neil hiccupped, a shudder rolling through his body, but his breaths evened out a bit.

“You’re safe now, Neil,” Abby added. She shot Andrew an exasperated look. “It’s just Andrew and I here. No one is going to hurt you anymore.”

It took another couple minutes for Neil to take a deep breath and raise his head. He nodded at Abby. He was okay to keep going.

To Andrew, who hadn’t moved his hand, he said, “you’d make a horrible motivational coach.”

Andrew hummed in agreement. He still didn’t move his hand.

True to his word, David had the gang packed and ready to go by the time Abby finished re-dressing Neil’s wounds. They’d rented a large passenger van and had the back row set up with some extra blankets and pillows for Neil. No one said a word when Andrew followed Neil back and settled beside him.

The already subdued mood lapsed into silence a couple hours into the drive. Neil shifted his position for the hundredth time, obviously uncomfortable as he rested his head against the window. Andrew sighed and tugged on Neil’s sleeve to get his attention.

“Just lay down already,” he said. “I can’t sleep with all your fidgeting.”

Neil glanced at Andrew, then down at the seat, clearly trying to figure out how that configuration would work. Andrew rolled his eyes. Reaching past Neil, he grabbed a pillow and set it on his lap, then gestured to Neil’s head. Neil’s eyes widened slightly before a smile tugged at his lips.

“Say one word and I throw you out the back,” Andrew warned.

Still smiling, Neil stretched out across the seats and rested his head on the pillow. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, only loud enough for them to hear.

“Junkie,” Andrew replied, equally quiet. He rested his hand on Neil’s scalp, testing the feel of the uneven hair against his skin. “We’re going to have to cut this. It looks like you got into a fight with a lawnmower.”

“We?” Neil said, smiling though his eyes remained closed.

Andrew stroked his fingers back and forth, drawing a tiny shiver from Neil.

“Shut up,” he said.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter this week! I hope you enjoy!

Despite the bumpy ride and occasional whoosh of passing traffic, Neil slept most of the way home. He woke a couple times, when they stopped for gas, when Andrew shifted to change positions, otherwise he rested uninterrupted for the journey. Of course, sleeping with his head cushioned on Andrew’s leg didn’t hurt. Despite the novelty and relative newness of such an act, when he did wake, Neil’s eyes opened to find Andrew’s face above him, and it settled the anxiety that still gnawed at his nerves. Andrew had always been firm, unmovable. Now more than ever, Neil welcomed that stillness.

Some of his prior anxiety returned when they finally arrived in Palmetto and the van quieted as David cut the engine. Neil knew the others expected – deserved – an explanation. He’d talked himself dry the last two days, supplying Browning and his colleagues with far more detail than the Foxes would demand, so really it shouldn’t have felt like a big deal to repeat himself at this point. It did though. Because this time he had something more important to lose.

Andrew remained quiet as he and Neil walked into the house, side by side. A few of the others had already gathered in the living room and Neil allowed himself a moment to pause just outside the doorway. He glanced up as Andrew pressed a shoulder into his briefly before continuing inside. Neil took a deep breath. He could do this. 

Despite everything, he half expected to find himself ostracized, sitting alone before an unfriendly audience. Instead, Kevin – who did have a black eye – and Andrew sat on either side of him. Nicky arranged himself on the floor beside Kevin’s legs while Aaron stretched out perpendicular with his back against the wall. Matt, Dan, and Allison squished together on the loveseat while Renee, Robin, David, and Abby dragged additional chairs in from the kitchen to form a loose circle. Neil took a moment to look around, to take in their faces. He searched for anger, for signs of rejection. He found none.

“Where should I start?” Neil asked, once everyone had settled.

“How about the beginning?” Dan said.

Breathing in deep, Neil told them everything.

He didn’t speak in generalities, and he didn’t leave out details because of their brutality or nature. The room listened in silence. Sometimes one or two of them would react or ask a question, but no one stopped him completely. At last, he told them haltingly about his missing hours between Rockport and Baltimore. None of this was easy to talk about, but those memories remained fresh and vivid in Neil’s mind. The burns on his face and arms ached and seemed to grow hotter when he explained what had caused them. His breath hitched as an image of a red-hot cigarette lighter flashed through his mind and Andrew pressed his thigh more firmly against Neil’s. It helped ground him and he gave the tiniest of nods in recognition.

“So now that the ugly stuff is all out of the way…” Allison spoke up, “Can we please talk about exactly how and when you two hooked up?

Neil flushed and looked at his lap. Part of him waited for Andrew to deny it or make some other scathing remark, but Andrew remained quiet, thigh pressed just as firmly against him as before.

“And this is where I make an exit,” David griped, standing up. Abby rose beside him. “No offense to any of you, but the less I know about this subject, the better.”

The conversation shifted briefly while he and Abby prepared to leave. Neil sighed tiredly and leaned back into the couch. Despite sleeping during the drive, exhaustion tugged at his bones and he wanted nothing more than to sink into his mattress and sleep for a week. Maybe two.

The Foxes were, of course, undeterred by the interruption. Especially Nicky, who, the moment the front door swung shut, swiveled around to stare at Andrew and Neil with a look of disbelief.

“Um, okay, so, _what_?” he said. “How did I not… When did you… I can’t believe…” His mouth opened and closed a couple more times before he broke out into a huge, delighted grin. “Holy fucking shit, you two are like, _together_.”

Neil gave up on the idea of a bed and wished he could simply sink through the couch. He dared to glance around the room and found various reactions. From smug satisfaction on Allison and Dan’s faces to a small, knowing smile on Renee’s, to a look of utter blankness on Aaron’s. The only face he didn’t look at was Andrew’s, because it mattered the most.

“Well, this certainly explains a lot,” Matt said, eyes wide as he gaped at them. To Dan he said accusingly, “you knew?”

Dan fought back a smile. “Um, I might’ve suspected…”

“I didn’t suspect!” Nicky cried. “Oh my god, I am a gay without gaydar!”

Neil’s face grew redder and he finally risked a look at Andrew. It was with no small amount of exasperation that he found him utterly calm and unaffected by the conversation. Noticing Neil’s attention, he raised a single eyebrow as if to say ‘what?’.

“You two are fucking adorable,” Allison commented. She paused. “You’re probably adorable fucking too.”

Aaron groaned and covered his face with his hands.

They suffered through a few more rounds of good-natured ribbing before Renee gently reminded everyone that Neil was probably exhausted. That sobered the mood a bit, and the group slowly dispersed for the night. Neil, who by his very nature did not hug people, thought about hugging Renee for that. He settled for a nod of thanks instead. She just smiled and waved goodnight.

Neil headed downstairs first. Despite his physical exhaustion, his mind continued spinning with everything that had just happened. Not only the discussion about his identity, but the reveal of things between him and Andrew.

It was Andrew, of course, who had decided to make things so obvious. Even before he offered to let Neil lay his head on Andrew’s lap in the van, Andrew had maintained almost constant physical contact with Neil since finding him in Baltimore. Neil suspected it reassured Andrew as much as it did him. And yet he couldn’t wrap his mind around Andrew allowing the others to know that, to see that vulnerability. It threatened to floor him.

Andrew padded down the stairs a few minutes later, carrying some sort of plastic case and an armful of plastic bags. Neil allowed himself to be herded into the bathroom where Andrew pushed him down onto the closed toilet. He set the bags aside before opening the case to reveal a set of clippers. Neil sighed in resignation. Though he’d avoided looking it a mirror so far, he had allowed himself to touch what remained of his hair and knew he’d rather have it all gone than face the evidence of Lola’s handiwork. Some parts were relatively untouched, while others had been shorn down almost to his skin. He thought back to her comment about scalping him and shivered.

“It’ll grow back,” Andrew said. He rested a hand on Neil’s head but didn’t move, waiting for Neil’s permission. Neil swallowed and nodded.

He closed his eyes while Andrew worked. The quiet buzz of the clippers and Andrew’s breathing were the only sounds in the room, and Neil focused on those. Andrew kept his touches light but firm, manipulating Neil’s head to and fro as he moved the clippers in long, smooth strokes. It felt nothing like the awful sawing motion of Lola’s knife and if not for the tickle of hair falling around his neck, he might not have noticed the change.

Andrew finished, setting the clippers on the counter and squinting critically before giving a tiny nod of satisfaction. Neil reached up and ran his fingers along the unfamiliar surface. It was buzzed, not bald, as he’d originally feared, though a few spots seemed a little barer than others. Those spots twinged a bit, and Neil stopped himself before he could think too much about it. Besides, Andrew had started pulling off his clothes, and it would be hard to concentrate through that.

The shirt came off easily enough, with Andrew’s assistance. While Andrew turned on the shower, Neil stood and fumbled with his pants, trying and failing to hook his fingers into the material. Andrew gave him an indifferent look before batting Neil’s hands away and doing it himself, pushing sweats and boxers down to his feet with one perfunctory movement. Neil shivered slightly. Even though it was Andrew, who’d seen more of him than anyone else, he felt achingly bare and vulnerable like this.

Likely sensing his state of mind, Andrew continued without lingering. The reason for the plastic bags came into being as he wrapped them loosely around Neil’s hands and arms, taping the openings securely around his biceps. He repeated this with Neil’s face, pressing folded plastic over the bandages and taping each side down. It took a while until he seemed satisfied, but finally he pulled back and surveyed his work.

“You’re a mess,” he said.

Neil smiled slightly. It tugged at the tape on his face. “But a hot mess, right?” he tried in a weak attempt at humor.

Andrew snorted and pushed him into the shower.

The warm water stung at first, though it also felt amazing. Neil didn’t know how he’d manage to wash himself with his hands wrapped in garbage bags, but he didn’t really care. He’d let the water slough away whatever it could of the past few days and worry about the rest later.

Only then Andrew stepped into the shower with him. Fully clothed, the water quickly plastered Andrew’s black shirt to his skin. Water streamed down his face, collecting on the side of his nose and pooling in the crook of his neck. Neil blinked wordlessly at the sight of him and couldn’t stop the tiny gasp that escaped him as Andrew began to gently massage shampoo into his scalp. He washed him everywhere – slow and considerate around his wounds, quick and a bit rough everywhere else. Neil didn’t mind. Quite the opposite.

By the time Andrew rinsed him off, there was more kissing than anything else. Neil could sense Andrew holding back for his sake, not giving in to their usual almost violent kisses. It still made his cheeks hurt, but he did his best to ignore it, especially as Andrew pushed him back against the cool tile and started kissing his way down Neil’s body. Neil’s breath hitched as Andrew worked his way lower and lower, hands and mouth leaving a scorching trail in their wake. He dropped to his knees, one hand on Neil’s hip, the other trailing down his chest and lingering on a scar. He looked up, meeting Neil’s eyes, and then he swallowed him whole.

Neil fought to control his breathing as Andrew bobbed up and down, tongue impossibly hot, lips impossibly tight where they wrapped around him. Neil wanted to touch him, to do something so he wouldn’t explode off the face of the earth, but his plastic-covered hands slipped when he tried, so he rested them against the tile instead. Perhaps sensing his frustration, Andrew held Neil’s hips more firmly, pressing him down. It helped.

Neil came harder than he ever had before, a hoarse cry escaping him as Andrew continued doing wicked things with his tongue until it was almost too much. When he pulled back, Neil slid bonelessly to the floor, eagerly meeting Andrew for more kisses. He grimaced slightly at the taste of himself at first, though he quickly grew used to it and found he really didn’t care. Especially not when Andrew stayed pressed against him and unbuttoned his own pants. That time, Neil swallowed down Andrew’s gasps as he came apart against him.

They didn’t separate until the water started to turn cold. Andrew wrapped Neil in a towel before pushing him from the bathroom and finally ridding himself of his sodden clothes. Neil heard them hit the floor with a wet slap before Andrew pulled the curtain closed and stepped back into the shower.

Neil lingered in his bedroom, dripping on the carpet, considering how he could dress on his own. He didn’t think for long before Andrew wandered from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped low around his hips. He stopped outside Neil’s door and gave the dripping bags – and Neil – an unimpressed look. Neil couldn’t think about that though, not with the vast amount of bare skin on display before him.

Andrew didn’t undress around him. Ever. His bare forearms made an occasional appearance, but even in the shower just now, when Andrew worked down his pants and touched himself, Neil didn’t look. He hadn’t yet received permission, after all.

Andrew did nothing in halves though, and he certainly didn’t do anything by accident. He allowed Neil to drink in his fill, seemingly calm. He only stiffened slightly when Neil’s gaze wandered lower and caught on the long, shiny scar that stretched between his hipbones. Neil’s stomach did a tight, little flip because he understood the significance of such a scar. Even more so, the significance of Andrew allowing him to see it.

Words couldn’t convey everything Neil wanted to say in that moment, so he moved his eyes back up to Andrew’s and simply held his gaze. He hoped Andrew knew that Neil accepted his trust and matched it in equal measure. Eventually, Andrew blinked and looked away. When he retreated to his room for a few minutes, Neil accepted that as well.

Andrew returned fully clothed and didn’t say anything as he toweled Neil down. He carefully peeled the tape away and tossed that and the plastic bags into the garbage before finding the loosest clothes Neil owned. He maneuvered Neil’s arms into a large t-shirt, then stretched the top wide to fit it over his head, mindful of the bandages on his face. Neil rested his aching arms around Andrew’s neck for balance while he helped him into a pair of sweats, tugging them up and over his hips.

Finally clean and dressed, Neil sighed tiredly and didn’t protest when Andrew pulled back the covers and pushed him down onto his back. And then, surprising Neil for probably the thousandth time in the last twenty-four hours, Andrew flipped off the light and crawled in after him. He settled on his side facing Neil, back to the wall.

“I still can’t believe you punched Kevin,” Neil said quietly, after they lay in silence for a while. Although, more and more, he could believe it.

Andrew lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “He should’ve known better than to lie to me.”

Neil scoffed quietly. “I’ve lied to you about a million times since we met.”

Andrew watched him for a moment before replying. “It is not the same.”

“I know, it’s….” he trailed off. “What the others said tonight. I thought you’d be pissed.”

“Did I seem pissed tonight?” Andrew countered, raising an eyebrow in significance.

Neil flushed and curled his toes at the memory of Andrew’s lips stretched wide around him.

“Not about this. Just about… that they know. That there’s a… this.” Neil shook his head at his own ineloquence. “You know what I mean. Andrew.”

“Neil.”

They stared at each other. Finally, Andrew continued.

“I may be a master of denial, but even I have a point of no return.” He paused, continuing to watch Neil. “If you ever die again, I’ll kill you.”

Neil couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped him. It felt good. Because only a few days ago, he _had_ died. Nathaniel had died. But Neil got to live on.

“If the others keep asking questions about our sex lives,” Neil said, “you might have to kill them instead. Before I do.”

Andrew’s mouth quirked ever so slightly.

They lapsed into silence after that. When they both fell asleep, side by side, neither woke until morning.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter this time!

Andrew woke first. It happened abruptly, as it always did when accompanied by a nightmare. He took a deep breath, concentrating on the rise and fall of the blankets against his chest while he willed his too-quick heartbeat to slow. He and nightmares were intimate acquaintances. He had years’ worth of source material to choose from, after all, only this time he didn’t dream of any of that. He dreamed of Neil, face-down on a damp basement floor, eyes frozen open in death. The dream lay so close to reality that Andrew had a difficult time separating the two images in his mind. Eventually, he shifted onto his side and watched Neil – the real Neil, not unharmed, but alive.

In response to the movement, Neil stirred and mumbled sleepily. He looked younger, Andrew realized, without the dark locks spilling across his forehead, unable to obscure his unmistakable blue eyes. He had the slightest widow’s peak that Andrew hadn’t noticed before and his cheekbones looked sharper without the tumble of hair around his ears. He had tried to blend in for years, to look as nondescript as possible. Learning Neil wore brown contacts as well, back before the traffickers found him, didn’t surprise Andrew either. Seeing him now, his true face, open and vulnerable, did funny things to Andrew’s chest. He didn’t know how anyone could forget Neil. He certainly never could.

Andrew understood a little better now, Neil’s need to blend in. His mind flashed to the body of the red-haired man, sprawled on the floor with a bullet-hole through his forehead, Neil’s bright eyes staring out from an older, unfamiliar face. At the time, Andrew had little thought for anything except Neil, but he’d known instinctually that was Neil’s father. The monster responsible for many of the horrible scars on Neil’s body, responsible for his current injuries that would turn into scars of their own, in time. The monster whose face Neil saw whenever he looked in the mirror.

Andrew saw the resemblance too, of course. It was impossible to miss. But unlike most people, Andrew understood that even an identical face guaranteed nothing of the similarity behind it. Of that, he and Aaron were living proof.

Neil’s lips parted in a soft sigh just before his eyes cracked open and settled on Andrew. He blinked a couple times, still groggy.

“… time is it?” Neil murmured.

Andrew shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Neil thought about it, shrugged in turn, and let his eyes slip shut again.

They both dozed a while longer. More accurately, Neil dozed, and Andrew kept watch. Protective instincts were hardly a new occurrence for him, and the events of the past few days had stretched Andrew far beyond his capacity to shove them aside, so he stopped trying. He couldn’t change anything that happened, but he could watch him now and make sure he stayed safe. Make sure he didn’t do something stupid – like choke in his sleep.

When Neil woke again, more alert this time, he gave Andrew a knowing look. It was filled with so much fondness that Andrew would’ve shoved Neil’s face away if not for the visible reminder of his injuries.

“I thought I was the one with the staring problem.”

“The staring is annoying,” Andrew corrected in a mild tone. “You are a problem in itself.”

Neil smiled. It faded quickly into a wince that Neil tried, and failed, to hide.

“Scale of 1 to 10,” Andrew said.

Neil sighed. “Maybe a 4… It’s really not that bad.”

Andrew snorted softly. “So, in non-Neil terms, probably an 8.”

Neil started to shake his head and winced again. “Okay, a 5. I’m okay for now though. I’ve dealt with worse.”

He had. Being reminded of that made Andrew’s pulse quicken as ever-present anger simmered just beneath his skin. If he could systematically hunt down everyone who had ever laid a hand on Neil, he would. Neil watched him silently, knowing the anger wasn’t directed at him, but having the gall to look apologetic anyway.

“Just because you’ve had worse doesn’t make this time count any less,” Andrew said tightly.

Neil kept watching him. “I know that. Andrew…” His gaze lowered suddenly, a hesitant expression forming, and Andrew forced himself to stay still. He waited. He knew Neil would ask about the scar. Choosing to walk out of the bathroom in a towel last night had been a calculated move on his part, after all. Neil no longer had any secrets left to hide and Andrew would be damned if the balance of their relationship shifted because of his own insecurities.

Neil took a breath, hesitated a little bit longer, then dragged his gaze back to Andrew’s.

“It’s a birth-line, isn’t it?” he asked slowly. “I’ve never seen one before, in person, I mean. But that’s…” He paused, clearly fighting for the right words. “Drake did that to you?”

It was a roundabout way of asking, but for once, Andrew didn’t bother giving him a hard time. He simply nodded and watched as various emotions flickered across Neil’s face.

“That’s why you wouldn’t touch me, when I was in heat,” Neil continued eventually. “Even when I asked, you said no. Because he…”

He didn’t phrase any of it as a question. Still, Andrew answered. Not immediately, because he needed to think first. Arrange the words in his mind to some semblance of order.

“He liked to mess with me during heat.” He settled on the simplest explanation. “He didn’t bother with protection.”

He meant not to, in fact, but Andrew didn’t go into that. He’d only ever voiced this to Bee, years ago now, and they spent a long time picking it apart. The power and control Drake held over him back then, the threats and manipulations. Heats had been the worst of it. An omega’s most vulnerable time, most sacred time, and Drake made sure to be around as often as he could.

Neil exhaled slowly. Andrew could see the anger in his eyes. Finally, Neil worked up to the obvious question.

“Did you give birth?”

Andrew shook his head, watched as relief softened some of the tension in Neil’s frame. Neil closed his eyes briefly.

“I’d kill him again, if I could,” Neil said fiercely, meeting his gaze. “Don’t tell me it wouldn’t make a difference, because I know you would’ve killed my father yourself, if you had the chance.”

He was right. Andrew didn’t tell him so, but he didn’t need to.

Neil reached a hand to scratch at his face, stopping himself just in time. He still winced hard at the movement and grunted softly in pain.

“Still a 4?” Andrew asked.

Neil huffed and rolled his eyes. “Maybe a 6.”

“Come on,” Andrew said, sitting up. “You need food before meds.”

Neil arched an eyebrow without comment, allowing Andrew to pull him – carefully – upright and steer him out of the room.

Allison greeted them in the kitchen. It was early – too early, considering the late hour of their arrival last night. Despite that, Allison looked as meticulously groomed as always, perfectly manicured nails clicking rapidly as she texted from her spot at the table. The clicking set Andrew’s teeth on edge, but a full pot of coffee managed to curb his homicidal tendencies for the time being.

He shoved Neil down into a chair and started gathering ingredients for breakfast. He opted for scrambled eggs and oatmeal - soft, easy to eat foods that wouldn’t require much chewing. Neil hid his discomfort fairly well, but Andrew knew better than to fall for it.

Allison sighed expansively and set her phone down with a bit too much force. Andrew barely glanced up from the stove.

“I’m glad you two are getting some,” she said, “because my boyfriend is a goddamn idiot. If you can even call him that anymore.”

Andrew didn’t comment, because he didn’t really care about anyone else’s relationship drama. Neil just looked confused.

“Um,” Neil cleared his throat. “You have a boyfriend?”

Allison stared back at him, mouth dropping open slightly. “Yes, I have a boyfriend,” she answered slowly. “I think you’d remember, considering you pulled his ass from a burning building.”

Neil blinked. “Seth?”

Allison opened her mouth to reply, and then started laughing. “Oh my god, you are the most clueless baby gay I’ve ever met. Good to know the oblivious side of you wasn’t an act. Yes, Seth. Just because he doesn’t live here right now doesn’t mean he ceased to exist.”

Except he kind of had, Andrew mused silently, listening but not participating in the exchange. He hadn’t given Seth a spare thought in months. They only ever interacted on missions anyway, and Seth’s absence had barely registered to Andrew at the best of times. In fact, the lack of Seth’s surly attitude seemed to make them all get along better, come to think of it. Seeing Neil’s blank-faced reaction now, he supposed Neil had noticed even less than that.

“I didn’t realize you guys were still dating. I hardly ever see him around,” Neil said, defending himself with a scowl. “And please don’t call me that.”

Allison furrowed her brows. “What, clueless? Oh, you mean gay. Sorry, just assumed, given the evidence. Like, I don’t know, your boyfriend cooking you breakfast over there. So, are you bi?”

Neil started to cross his arms, winced, and settled them on the table instead.

“No, I’m just…” He shrugged, still scowling. He glanced briefly at Andrew. “Does it matter?”

Allison smirked. “Not into labels, then. I get it. Well, whatever you are, I’m happy for you.” Her smirk softened into something more genuine. “It’s not everyday you find your person standing right there in front of you. Anyway, I’ve got to run. See you two lovebirds later.”

Neil groaned and lowered his forehead to the table after she left. “You were extremely unhelpful in that conversation,” he said.

Andrew sat a plate in front of Neil and slid into the chair opposite him with his coffee.

“Stop caring what they think, and you won’t be bothered by their questions,” Andrew supplied unhelpfully. He carefully sipped from his mug and sighed in satisfaction.

“I don’t care,” Neil argued, sitting up. “I just wish they’d stop.” He grimaced as he clutched the fork to eat. “I guess I could try your method and just not respond at all.”

Andrew took another sip of coffee, watching Neil over the rim.

Neil shook his head. “Yeah, exactly like that. Coming from anyone else, it seems a little insane though.” He paused, considering. “I take it back. It seems a little insane coming from you too.”

Andrew just shrugged.

*******

Several things happened in a relatively short amount of time. Andrew and Neil heard most of them second-hand, mainly from Kevin, as events unfolded outside of Palmetto.

The Rockport raid managed to stay quiet for less than twenty-four hours. Given the magnitude of the operation, not to mention the involvement of so many packs, the media caught wind of things almost immediately. The feds refused to comment at first. Their stonewalling did little good once the Omega Rights Commission issued a public statement. It all blew up quickly after that.

In total, they freed seventy-two shifters from the facility in Rockport. Of those, over half had legal contracts through the National Bidding Process that designated them as members of packs around the country. Every one of those packs belonged to the Evermore conglomerate. A dozen shifters belonged to Evermore itself. Only nobody with a contract had ever set foot inside those packs, having gone from bidding to breeding facility immediately upon purchase. The rescued shifters consisted of thirty-three omegas, twenty-six betas, and thirteen alphas. The youngest was only fourteen years old.

Public outrage swept through the country like a firestorm. Policy and lawmakers couldn’t make such a decision quickly, or lightly, but they did order a temporary halt to all bidding events, pending an investigation into the National Bidding Process. Which, in reality, meant Evermore.

They located two additional facilities – one in Texas, another in Wyoming. Texas had the best head-start, managing to empty over half of its ‘stock’ before authorities arrived. Andrew clenched his fists hard at that. Jeremy had warned them the network would go to ground if they moved too quickly. He hadn’t been entirely right but knowing some of them had gotten away still irked him.

A little over a week after the Rockport raid, after Neil’s kidnapping, Kengo Moriyama – Pack Alpha of Evermore and CEO of their international organization – ended up in the hospital. The prognosis wasn’t good, they said. His son, Ichirou, stepped up in his place.

“I’ve never met Ichirou,” Kevin explained that night, after news of Kengo’s hospitalization made its way to the evening news. He was pale-faced and a little unsteady as he continued staring at the dark screen. “People talk though. I got the impression they actually respected him.”

“Not just feared him,” Neil added. “Like Riko.”

Kevin swallowed. He nodded. “Or the Mas – or Tetsuji. He… Riko learned from him. He didn’t become that way on his own.”

News continued to unfold. The investigation continued. Some of the rescued shifters started speaking out. Kengo’s condition deteriorated.

Three weeks after Rockport, Ichirou Moriyama, new Pack Alpha of Evermore, called a press conference and calmly but firmly shifted all blame to the branch family. In an unprecedented move, he denounced the West Virginia Evermore pack, promising to cooperate fully with the federal investigation and stating he had evidence of Tetsuji and Riko’s unsanctioned and illegal actions. That, Andrew watched live with the rest of the house. Dan threw up her arms in frustration, Nicky booed and bounced popcorn off the screen, and Ichirou skillfully manipulated his way from under a pile of shit and back into the public’s good graces. Andrew had to admit he was a little impressed.

“The main family has always been more concerned with their other operations.” Neil explained this time, after the conference ended. “Weapons, drugs, trafficking. Bidding belonged to the branch family. As lucrative as it is, I’m not surprised Ichirou would cut if off. It’s that or risk their collapse completely.”

“Like cutting off a gangrenous limb before it becomes septic and kills you,” Aaron supplied darkly, scowling into his beer. Next to him, Nicky grimaced at the graphic description. Neil nodded though.

“Yeah, basically. By throwing Tetsuji and Riko to the wolves, he’s saved the Evermore pack.”

“Motherfucker…” Dan muttered. Matt tightened the arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Neil seemed especially restless that night, after he and Andrew crawled into bed. He shifted from his side, to his back, to his other side, and then to his back again before Andrew reached over and flicked him between the eyes.

“Cut it out,” Neil snapped, then heaved a sigh. “Sorry. Can’t sleep.”

“You don’t say,” Andrew replied dryly.

Neil sighed again before settling his arms across his stomach. He scratched idly at the bandages. The healing wounds had started to itch a while ago, which was a good sign, but Andrew knew from experience how infuriating it could be.

“If Tetsuji and Riko are convicted, Evermore won’t have any reason to come after me again,” Neil blurted out. “Legally I’m not Nathaniel anymore, so they have no claim. And I didn’t mention Evermore once to the FBI.”

Andrew nodded, thinking. Not mentioning Evermore had been a careful play, on Neil’s part. He’d talked all about the Butcher, every detail he could muster. He claimed a child’s ignorance of his family’s relation to Evermore – not entirely a lie – and only discussed Evermore in relation to Palmetto. That frustrated the feds to no end, of course, as they already knew all that.

“You and Kevin thought Ichirou would make that move,” Andrew said.

In the darkness, Andrew could see Neil suck his bottom lip into his mouth. “Maybe. Really only as a small possibility. We had no way to know how intertwined the main family was with the breeding farms.” He paused for a bit. “It was smart. I think _they_ planned for this. If one castle falls, it doesn’t topple the entire kingdom.”

Neil started scratching again so Andrew grabbed his hand. Neil shifted his head to look at him.

“Do I really get to be Neil Josten?” he asked softly.

“You’ve never been anyone else,” Andrew responded, squeezing his hand lightly. “Leave Nathaniel dead and buried in Baltimore where he belongs.”

Neil exhaled shakily and squeezed back.

*******

Jean Moreau never arrived at the rendezvous point. He stopped responding to Kevin’s texts only days after the Rockport raid, but Kevin clung fast to the idea that he was just being careful. Andrew suspected Jean didn’t respond because he couldn’t.

******* 

After nearly a month, Neil’s wounds were well on their way to scarring over or disappearing completely. The deep burn on his face proved the most troublesome, even getting a little infected for a while, which made eating miserable for Neil. It passed though. Antibiotics cleared the infection and Andrew forced a few days’ worth of extra food down Neil’s throat.

Shifting while injured could be a tricky process. From one body to the next, wounds could shift locations, becoming better or worse depending on the form. Only once Abby gave Neil an all-clear to shift did he bother attempting it. The first time, Andrew made him do it in the basement, just in case. Neil rolled his eyes and called him overly cautious, but eventually he stripped down and shifted to his fox form without issue.

They decided to go for a run on an unusually warm spring day. Shifted together, they ran side by side. Andrew kept his pace considerably under full speed, knowing Neil would match it. He still didn’t trust the idiot not to over-exert himself. Especially not after finding him sweat-drenched and gasping for breath from a jog with Matt less than a week ago.

Since moving to the shared house back in November, Andrew preferred running in the patch of woods closest to the border of Palmetto. Beyond lay unpopulated, wild territory that Andrew had once marveled at as a natural protective barrier around their land. It would take days for anyone to hike there by foot, no matter their form. No one would bother with such a thing.

Only someone had.

Andrew skidded to a halt, claws extended, and growled into the dense foliage. Neil loped up beside him, panting. His eyes widened briefly at Andrew’s stance, just before he too scented the unfamiliar shifter nearby and his head snapped that direction.

Andrew growled at Neil, warning him to stay back, before crouching and slinking silently forward. He sniffed as he got closer. The tangy scent of blood hit the back of his throat, along with the stench of sweat and sickness. His ears flicked back as he caught the sound of labored breathing, followed by a long, low wail.

Neil followed him, of course. He bared his teeth at Andrew in response to his glare and stuck tightly to his side. They sidled slowly forward until they could see the source of their attention.

An emaciated wolf lay on the ground, half buried in the foliage near a tree. Blood and dirt saturated its fur, so much of it that Andrew couldn’t make out its true color beneath all the filth. Wounds of various shapes and sizes decorated its entire body. Both of its front legs looked crooked and wrong. If not for the stilted, occasional rise of its ribcage, Andrew would think it dead.

Neil jolted suddenly and darted forward before Andrew could stop him. He crouched next to the wolf, who cracked open a single, yellow eye and whined deep in his throat. Neil glanced back at Andrew and wagged his tail once. Not a threat, he said.

In the end, they had no choice but to leave one of them with the injured wolf while the other went back for clothes and phones. Andrew could run faster, so he did, anxiety gnawing at him the entire time about leaving Neil there alone. They hadn’t gone far, luckily. Andrew shifted, dressed, and called for help before gathering Neil’s belongings from behind a nearby tree and jogging back into the woods.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Neil, sitting in the same place as before.

Neil shifted. Before he even started pulling on his clothes, he looked at Andrew and said, “that’s Jean.”

Andrew’s gaze snapped back to the prone wolf. He’d only met Jean briefly, surrounded by other people each time, so he hadn’t immediately recognized his scent.

David parked his truck as close as he could to their location, then tromped through the trees with Abby in tow.

“It’s Jean Moreau,” Andrew said, as soon as he spotted them. “Neil recognizes him.”

David and Abby exchanged a glance. Abby quickly knelt by Jean and swept her eyes over him. Again, Jean opened an eye, only this time he spotted David and whimpered, shivering uncontrollably.

“David,” Abby said, “back up a little bit, would you?”

He did so, while Andrew and Neil watched from the other side.

“Jean, my name is Abby. You’re safe here. I don’t want you to shift right now, okay? You’re safe, but you are hurt. We’re going to help you. I promise.”

While she talked in the same calm, soothing voice Andrew had heard from her many times before, Abby smoothly drew a syringe from her first-aid kit, pinched up a fold of matted wolf fur, and poked in the needle. Jean didn’t seem to notice. A moment later, his eye drifted shut and his breathing deepened.

Abby exhaled and looked up at them. “He’s been tortured. I don’t know if it’s safe to move him, but I can’t very well treat him here. David, can you carry him?”

They got him back to David’s truck and laid him out as gently as possible in the bed. Abby hopped in the back with him.

“Drive slow,” she said.

Andrew and Neil got in his car and followed behind them in silence. Neil hadn’t said a word, but Andrew could see the way he kept rubbing at his healing scars.

“Riko did that to him,” Andrew said. “Maybe Tetsuji.”

Neil shot him a look. “I know.”

Andrew drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Then quit looking so guilty.”

Neil scowled and turned to stare out the window. “He helped us. Clearly Riko found out. I know that’s not my fault, but he was still tortured because of us. I’m allowed to feel bad about that.”

Andrew didn’t necessarily agree. Even so, he figured arguing wouldn’t do them any good.

“Text Kevin,” he said. “He’ll want to know.”

Kevin ended up beating all of them back to Abby’s. He shot to his feet when he saw them pull up, eyes wide. Andrew and Neil joined him on the porch and watched as David and Abby pulled a limp wolf’s body from the truck and rushed him inside.

They didn’t pause for Kevin to look, but clearly, he saw enough. He slammed back against the railing, alarmingly pale.

“Fuck,” he whispered, running a hand down his face. “Fuck, I should’ve…” He pinched his brow together, as if in pain. “If Riko wanted him dead, he’d be dead. And he couldn’t have made it all the way here on his own.”

Neil frowned and exchanged a look with Andrew. “You think Riko brought him here?”

Kevin shook his head. “I don’t know. But if Riko tortured Jean, and Jean is now here, it’s not by accident...” He swallowed. “It’s to warn us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, things are rolling towards a conclusion! I finally set a chapter limit (had a loose idea in mind, but needed to see where the story took me). We've got a few more to go yet. 
> 
> I hope everyone out there is staying safe and sane in these crazy times!


	28. Chapter 28

Nobody slept that night.

Neil and Andrew stayed with Kevin, who refused to leave before he could speak with Jean. Jean, for his part, remained unconscious well into the night. When he did wake, though halfway across the house, Neil and the others heard it. He found out later that Jean caught sight of David, and in his delirium and panic, shifted to human before Abby could intervene. As she feared, that only made his injuries worse.

Jean’s cries of pain echoed eerily across the otherwise quiet house. Seated in the living room, beside Andrew and across from Kevin, Neil grit his teeth and did his best to tune it out. It turned out to be a futile exercise. At one point, he wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes in an effort to block out the memories of his own cries, made not so long ago. Kevin, who’d spent the better part of the evening staring into a bottle of scotch, leaned forward and covered his ears, making a low, miserable sound as he did so. Only Andrew appeared unaffected, though Neil knew better than to believe his lack of outward expression.

Eventually, the cries stopped, and Neil breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He caught Andrew’s eyes flickering up to meet his, to which Neil offered a tiny nod. Andrew returned his attention to his book without comment.

Neil dozed a bit at some point. He jerked awake, images of blood and burning metal lingering behind his eyelids as Abby propped herself against the wall and ran a tired hand down her face.

“How is he?” Kevin asked.

Abby shook her head. “Not good. I’m amazed he made it here alive, honestly. If he was anyone else, I would have already sent him to a proper hospital, or at least the clinic. It’s not safe though.”

“For us or for him?” Andrew commented.

Abby shrugged, clearly frustrated. “Both? I don’t know. I don’t understand how he got here in the first place, but the sooner we get him out of here the better. David’s already working on it.”

“I have to speak with him first,” Kevin protested, straightening up. “He has important information about Evermore that we need.”

Abby pursed her lips. “A man is lying in the next room half-dead because someone tortured him. For weeks. I hoped you’d be a little more concerned about his well-being and less about his value to you, Kevin.”

Kevin flushed red, opening and closing his mouth a couple times before lowering his head and grumbling an apology.

Abby sighed again. “If – and that’s a big if – he’s up for visitors in the morning, I’ll consider letting you speak with him. And that doesn’t include you, Andrew.”

Andrew shrugged, not looking offended in the least.

“Get some sleep, you three,” Abby continued in a gentler tone. Her gaze settled on Neil, making him shift uncomfortably. “Let me know if you need anything.”

*******

Morning came, along with Abby’s grudging permission to visit Jean. Neil followed Kevin into the bedroom, pulse kicking up at the familiar smell of antiseptic and blood. He’d been injured enough in his lifetime that it didn’t conjure up a particular memory, but it set his entire body on edge, just the same.

Only Jean’s face and neck remained visible outside of the blankets pulled up and over his chest. Even that scant amount of flesh was difficult to look at. He stared up at them from a single slitted eye, bright blue surrounded by blackened bruises and pale, mottled flesh. Stiches lined his cheeks and forehead and bald, scabbing patches decorated his skull where hair had been ripped away in chunks. Neil clenched his fists in an unexpected rush of anger and resisted the urge to run his hand over his own, slowly growing hair.

Kevin swallowed visibly and lowered himself to a chair beside Jean while Neil remained standing at the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” Kevin asked.

Jean blinked slowly. “About as good as I look. What do you want?” He glanced briefly up at Neil, glaring weakly.

Kevin winced. He took a deep breath before asking, “Does he know that you helped us?”

Jean made a disbelieving noise. “I would not be alive right now, if he did.”

Neil frowned and crossed his arms. “Why did he do that to you then?”

“Because of _you_,” Jean spat. “Because he is obsessed. I warned you,” he directed to Kevin. “I told you he’d retaliate.”

Kevin paled but Neil remained nonplussed. “So he retaliated by hurting one of his pack and dropping him on our doorstep? How exactly does that hurt us? Besides, you agreed to help us. You had to know that came with an expiration date.”

“Of course I knew that,” Jean retorted. “I never expected to leave that place alive.” He paused. “I would’ve ended things myself if this hadn’t happened.”

Kevin choked on his reaction, staring at Jean like he’d never seen him before.

Jean huffed and stared up at the ceiling. “After the raid, after news of your pack’s involvement, Riko reacted… badly. Then Ichirou denounced the branch family, and he…” He trailed off briefly, a haunted, faraway look on his battered face. “The Master left the country last – I’m not exactly sure how many days ago now.”

Kevin and Neil exchanged a glance. They’d heard no such news.

Jean continued. “He didn’t take Riko with him, and Riko, he is… unhinged. All he talked about was Palmetto and Nathaniel.”

“Did Riko bring you here?” Neil asked. “We found you on our lands.”

“I don’t know,” Jean muttered, sinking back into the pillows. “I don’t remember.”

They sat in silence for several long moments before anyone talked.

“Are you sending me back to Evermore?” Jean asked finally, without meeting anyone’s gaze. “Technically I still belong to them, with or without Riko.”

“No,” Kevin answered immediately, alarm flashing across his face. “We promised to help you get away from them. That hasn’t changed.”

Jean did his best to appear unaffected by that response, but Neil saw the way his chin wobbled and some of the tension drained from his expression.

Abby cleared her throat from the doorway. “That’s enough for now. Jean needs to rest.”

“I’ll check back later,” Kevin said hesitantly. “If that’s okay.”

Jean exhaled slowly and closed his eye. “Do what you like.”

Neil was unsurprised to find Andrew lingering in the hallway, settled against the wall just outside the door which Abby shut after giving him a pointed look. Andrew turned to follow Kevin and Neil caught his sleeve before he could go, tugging lightly. He obediently shifted to face Neil instead and raised a brow in question.

“You heard everything?” Neil asked.

Andrew nodded.

“Is Riko really stupid enough to come here himself?”

Andrew cocked his head to the side. “The man who’s lived as his slave and punching bag for a decade just called him ‘unhinged’. If he didn’t consider Riko unhinged before, what does that say about him now?”

Neil grimaced. Shaking his head, he said fiercely, “Yeah, well he’s welcomed to try. Does he seriously think he’s up for the challenge? A month ago, my father tried to kill me and now he has a bullet between his fucking eyes. If Riko tries coming after us again, he’ll find out just how pathetic he really is.”

Andrew stared at him a moment. “Remember when you pretended to be quiet and meek? Did you have to physically glue your mouth shut sometimes? Or give yourself a brain aneurysm by holding back?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Not like you ever believed me anyway.”

“Everything about you is unbelievable,” Andrew said flatly.

Neil knew he meant it as a dig. Even so, he didn’t try to hold back the amused smile that crept its way onto his face, earning him a narrow-eyed look from Andrew.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Neil joked. “Why would I keep my mouth shut when I get compliments like that?”

“Keep fishing,” Andrew said. As he turned to leave, he made sure to bump Neil’s shoulder with his own before heading toward the kitchen. Neil smirked and followed behind.

*******

Despite Jean’s ominous warning and Kevin’s continuous low-grade panic about the entire situation, nothing of note happened over the next several days. The Foxes learned of Jean’s presence immediately, but David warned them to keep it quiet from the pack at large. Most didn’t run in their inner circle, and therefore wouldn’t know the history or recent events involving Jean. In other words, people would look at Jean and see only Evermore – and worse, one of Riko’s pets. Asking for understanding when tensions were at an all-time high didn’t seem like the best move, so they simply kept it quiet.

Neil returned to the house after an afternoon jog with Matt to find Andrew waiting at the base of the steps. Andrew turned and headed to his car, knowing Neil would follow, which he did. First, he threw a glance at Matt and shrugged, which Matt returned with an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Not sure how to interpret that, Neil turned away without responding.

The Foxes, overall, had been surprisingly tame about the revelation of Neil and Andrew’s relationship. Nicky only begged Andrew for details once before learning his lesson – or perhaps that was the spoon chucked across the room at Nicky’s head. Either way, Nicky continued to grumble about secrets and tease good-naturedly, but only when Andrew couldn’t hear.

The oddest reaction came from Aaron, in that he didn’t react at all. Although Neil caught him shooting narrow-eyed stares at him every so often, the confrontation he expected still hadn’t arrived. The only discernible change in Aaron, from Neil’s perspective, was less time spent in the house and more time spent – as he learned from Nicky – with his girlfriend. Apparently, Andrew had some pre-existing beef with Aaron about her, but Neil didn’t feel inclined to dig into whatever drama the twins had between them there.

“Where are we going?” Neil asked, sliding into the passenger seat. Andrew waited until he buckled in before pressing down on the gas and pulling out into the street.

“Columbia,” Andrew replied.

When no further explanation came, Neil frowned. “Uh, okay. Why exactly?”

In response, Andrew clicked on the radio and cranked up the volume. Neil shook his head and resigned himself to whatever mysterious destination Andrew had in mind.

A little over an hour later, Andrew maneuvered his car between two larger vehicles and killed the engine. Neil frowned in confusion as he caught site of the store name.

“Why are we at a sports apparel shop?” he asked, getting out. He trailed behind Andrew, glancing around to see what other shops their actual destination might be, but Andrew led him straight into the sports one. In typical Andrew fashion, he breezed past the enthusiastic employee who greeted them, heading to the back of the store without a word.

“Andrew,” Neil tried again. “If this is you saying my running clothes stink, there are easier ways of telling me.”

Andrew shot him a wry look. Finally, he came to a halt in front a revolving rack. At first glance, Neil thought it held rows and rows of socks, only upon closer inspection, he realized they weren’t socks at all – they were armbands. In various colors, lengths, and fabrics, but clearly quite similar to what Andrew wore daily.

“Do you need a new pair?” Neil didn’t think Andrew’s custom-designed bands would have a match here unless ‘comes with knife sheaths’ was a common feature.

“Not for me,” Andrew said. He eyed the rack for a minute before grabbing a couple pairs and shoving them at Neil. “See what fits.”

Neil blinked. He looked down at his arms. Even mostly healed, he’d taken to only wearing long sleeves, no matter the temperature outside. He did so partly to hide Lola’s damage from others. Perhaps even more, he didn’t want to look down and see it himself. He should’ve realized Andrew would notice and understand why.

Feeling an odd mixture of emotions, Neil rolled up his sleeves and carefully pulled one of the options over his still-tender forearms. He tried half a dozen more – all tossed his way by Andrew – before deciding on a simple, black pair that were slightly longer than Andrew’s and a touch less elastic. Andrew snatched a second pair of the chosen bands, left the discards piled on the floor, and paid the cashier for both back at the front.

Neil took the bag from Andrew outside the store and followed silently to the car. After getting in, he retrieved one pair of bands and smoothed his fingers down the fabric while Andrew pulled them back into traffic.

“Thank you,” Neil said quietly, after they’d been on the road for a little while. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Andrew shrugged one shoulder. “Better than having you pass out from heat-stroke.” But he rested a hand on the middle console and didn’t pull away when Neil inched their fingers into contact. By the time they passed back into Palmetto boundaries, their fingers had been interlaced for some time.

They killed the rest of the afternoon running errands, stopping at the diner to eat, and shopping for their portion of weekly groceries for the house. By the time they pulled the car into the driveway, little daylight remained.

“If you want to start unloading, I’ll see who’s home and make them come help,” Neil said. Andrew popped the trunk and Neil took that as a yes.

The front door was locked, which seemed only a little odd with other people home. Not thinking much of it, Neil pushed the door open and stepped inside to a strangely dark entryway. The hair on the back of his stood on-end just before someone shoved the barrel of a gun against the side of his head. He froze.

“One word and you’re dead,” an unfamiliar male voice said.

Neil’s pulse thundered in his ears as the assailant closed and locked the door behind him.

“Move,” the person ordered.

Neil had little choice but to comply, not if he wanted to keep his brains inside his skull. He said nothing as the gun pressed into his back and the man directed him downstairs to the basement. Neil fought to keep his breathing even as he walked down the short flight of stairs. When he reached the bottom and caught sight of Matt, Dan, and Nicky, his dread only heightened. Off to the side, a second gun trained on the group, a cruel, wild look in his eyes, stood Riko.

“God, you can’t actually be this stupid,” Neil ground out. Nicky made an alarmed noise from his spot on the couch. “You seriously don’t know when to stop, do you? Admit it, Riko, that number on your face doesn’t mean anything anymore, does it?

“Neil,” Matt warned in a strained voice. “You may have noticed they have guns.”

Neil spared a quick glance to his friends and immediately spotted Matt’s rapidly darkening black eye and Dan’s torn blouse. He swallowed down his anger.

“_I_ don’t know when to stop?” Riko said slowly. He stepped forward and before Neil could think of reacting, backhanded him hard across the face. Neil grunted and stumbled back a step, head snapping to the side.

Matt shouted in protest but he quieted when Riko trained the gun on Dan.

Neil spat a mouthful of blood and raised his eyes. “What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here? If you want to kill me, then get it over with. Leave them out of this.”

Riko bared his teeth in a snarl. “All of this is your fault, Nathaniel. Before you came this pack was nothing but a nuisance. And now you’ve ruined _everything_.”

He saw the blow coming this time, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Riko’s fist caught Neil across his newly healed cheek and the pain bloomed hard and fast. Neil dropped to one knee in order to keep his balance and he clenched his hand hard around the plastic handle of the sports apparel bag he still carried.

Fuck, where was Andrew? They hadn’t brought him downstairs yet. Did that mean he was still outside or were they holding him elsewhere in the house? Besides Riko, Neil had only seen one other person so far – he vaguely recognized him as one of the Ravens from Atlanta. He had already returned upstairs, leaving only Riko in the basement with the four of them. It would be great odds… if not for the gun. As far as Neil knew, none of them could dodge a bullet.

“Killing me isn’t going to change anything,” Neil pressed on. He knew he should stay silent, but what good would that do? If Riko couldn’t be reasoned with, he could at least be distracted for as long as possible. “Your pack is done. Your brother wants nothing to do with you. You should follow in your uncle’s footsteps and run away while you still can.”

“Neil, please stop talking,” Dan begged, almost too quietly to hear.

“Yes, _Neil_, stop talking,” Riko mimicked. He hit Neil again.

Neil managed to stay upright, but just barely. His ears rung and the room spun dizzyingly around him as raised his head once more to meet Riko’s gaze. He understood now, what Jean had said. In all their previous interactions, Riko acted with cruelty and malice, but always with some measure of control. And now he had none. He’d lost control over everything around him, and now it seemed, himself.

Riko glared down at him with more loathing than Neil had ever felt directed at him before. Very slowly, he pulled back his arm for another blow, only this time he raised the hand holding the gun. Dan let out a quiet sob of protest.

Riko didn’t want to shoot him, Neil realized as Riko raised his arm over his head – he still had the safety on…. because he didn’t want him to die quickly. Even so, Neil knew Riko could crack his skull with the right hit. But he could barely stay upright, too dizzy to do anything but watch as Riko’s hand started to descend.

Tawny fur and sharp teeth flashed in Neil’s peripheral vision just before Andrew launched himself at Riko, caught his forearm between his powerful jaws, and bit down with all his might. Bones crunched sickeningly loud and the gun clattered harmlessly to the carpet as Riko crumpled to his knees and started screaming. Andrew went down right along with him, teeth clamped around Riko’s arm and claws planted in his chest.

Neil grabbed for the gun, but Dan got there first. He gave her a nod and Dan trained the gun on Riko.

“I’ve got him, Andrew,” she said.

Andrew growled and gave a final vicious shake of his head before releasing Riko and backing up a few steps. Riko curled in on himself, sobbing and clutching his arm to his chest. Neil didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for him.

“The other one has a gun too,” Matt said. “How should we handle that?”

“No need,” Allison said, stepping in from one of the bedrooms. Everyone startled badly and she gave them a brief, apologetic look. “Renee took care of him and sent me down to see if you needed help.” She gave Riko a disgusted look. “Seems you’ve got it handled.”

Neil forced himself to his feet, pausing once upright to let the room steady. Andrew blinked over his shoulder at Neil and growled deep in his throat.

“How did you guys know?” Neil asked.

“We got home just after you guys did,” Allison explained. “Renee and I walked in with Andrew. That asshole upstairs wasn’t expecting all three of us, clearly.”

Andrew disappeared into one of the bedrooms briefly to shift and dress. While he did that, the others took over. Gathering Riko and the other guy into one spot, calling David and the police, making sure no one was seriously hurt. Neil sat back and let them, nodding his thanks to Nicky when he pressed a bag of frozen peas into his hand.

“You okay, man?” Matt asked, stepping up beside him. Most of the others had migrated upstairs by that point, but Neil needed a few minutes of quiet before he could follow. “You’re going to have a worse shiner than me, I think.”

Neil nodded. “Yeah, I’m – ” Before he could finish that though, Matt pulled him into a loose hug and thumped him on the back twice. Neil stiffened and returned the embrace awkwardly.

“You’re seriously going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Matt said, thumping his back once more before pulling away. “Let’s talk about your hostage negotiation skills more later, yeah?”

A bit bemused by the encounter, Neil watched him leave. He realized Andrew had settled against the wall several feet away, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Neil said. “I should learn to keep my mouth shut. Maybe I’d end up with less concussions if I did, but – ”

Andrew closed the distance between them like it was nothing and folded himself around Neil. For the second time in only a few minutes, Neil stopped talking abruptly, too surprised to react.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Andrew muttered, dropping his forehead against Neil’s shoulder. “Survival tip: if you don’t want to die, stop telling people to kill you.” He tightened his grip on Neil’s shirt and Neil relaxed against him with a small shudder.

“They’re probably waiting for us upstairs,” Neil murmured after a few moments of silence.

“Let them wait,” Andrew said.

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I can't believe how close to the end this is getting... 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Comments are appreciated! :)


	29. Chapter 29

Neil’s trial took place in mid-July. He could hardly believe it had been almost a year since he first stepped foot in Palmetto. Since meeting Andrew and the Foxes.

Andrew didn’t say a word on the drive to Columbia. He’d barely spoken at all over the past couple weeks and had grown progressively quieter the closer they got to the date of the trial. He’d also retreated physically, sleeping alone in his room each night, and keeping himself carefully out of arm’s reach during the day.

Neil got it. He did. But it still sucked. He knew Andrew was preparing himself for his own testimony, and for others’, that would inevitably expose all the secrets he’d spent years shelving away. He also knew Andrew was preparing himself to see Cass and Richard Spear, who were the closest thing to parents Andrew had ever had – and who’s son had turned Andrew’s life into a living hell. Neil knew all that, and still, he had no idea what to do about it. Offering comfort wasn’t in Neil’s nature, nor did he imagine it would be well-received by Andrew if he tried. He knew Andrew would need something though, after today, and he felt a modicum of relief when he spotted Betsy walking through the doors ahead of them, leaning close to Nicky while they talked.

“Don’t look so worried,” Mr. Evans, Neil’s lawyer, said with a reassuring smile. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

Neil nodded distractedly, watching Andrew start up the stone steps that led into the courthouse. He’d schooled his face into careful blankness, but Neil saw the tension in the rigid line of his spine as he walked. Neil took a steadying breath and followed him inside.

*******

Ever since Riko’s arrest, the tension in Palmetto had deflated like a slowly leaking balloon. Moods lightened, the underlying sense of anxiety and hypervigilance lifted. Neil, on the other hand, kept expecting _something_ to happen. He didn’t know what exactly, but he had spent his whole life running and he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea that there was no longer anything chasing him. His father was dead, his organization dismantled, Tetsuji remained on the run, and finally, Riko had been thrown in a cage of his own.

Ichirou remained a concern. Though, legally speaking, Evermore had no claim on Neil Josten, only Nathaniel Wesninski. And Nathaniel, the long-missing son of the Butcher of Baltimore, had been officially declared dead after the FBI recovered Nathaniel and Mary Hatford’s remains on the southern coast of Oregon. A lie, obviously, but one Neil didn’t mind them telling.

Freedom. The word still tasted weird on Neil’s lips. He’d never expected to make it to his twentieth birthday, let alone have a life afterward to look forward to. Only now he did, and it stretched out ahead of him like a long, unknown road. For the first time in Neil’s life, the unknown didn’t scare him.

*******

Justifiable homicide. The judge’s ruling hung in the air long after the strike of her gavel faded, swallowed up by a mix of excited chatter and scattered protests. Neil shook Mr. Evans’ hand and nodded absently at the smattering of congratulations he received from others nearby. David and Abby were hugging, someone on the other side of the room was crying. Neil only had eyes for Andrew.

An easy win, someone called it, thumping Neil on the shoulder as they passed. Neil clenched his jaw hard enough to chip a tooth. Given the evidence, given the disgraced Riko Moriyama’s involvement, the verdict was all but guaranteed. So yes, easy, in the legal sense. But what Andrew had said up there on the witness stand, the dark secrets exposed through social service reports, through photos, through transcripts of conversations… none of that had been easy. Not to hear, and certainly not to live.

Andrew stood in the aisle next to Betsy, flanked by Aaron and Nicky to keep others from getting too close. Andrew had been adamantly against them coming, but in the end, they had to provide testimony about the events at Luther’s. They looked every bit as shell-shocked as Neil felt. Betsy had her head bent close to Andrew, speaking quietly, to which he offered an occasional, distracted nod. He looked worn out and pale, utterly devoid of emotion. The lawyers had quietly worried about Andrew’s lack of expression, that it would make him unrelatable. If anything, his calm, placid state had made the horrific words coming out of his mouth even more chilling.

“How you doing, kid?” David asked, stopping next to him. The courtroom had already started to empty, though their small group lingered behind.

Neil had to bite his tongue from offering up his usual response. Instead, he shrugged and said, “I’m glad it’s over with.”

David nodded, glancing over at Andrew and the others. “He’s tough, you know. He’ll be alright. You all will.”

Neil blinked, unsure how to respond. David expressed his heartfelt emotions about as often as Neil did, which was to say, hardly ever. The surprise must’ve shown on his face, prompting David to snort.

“Believe it or not, there is a heart beneath this gruff exterior,” David said. “There’d have to be to put up with you lot. Now come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

With other people finally out of the way, Neil stepped up beside Andrew, eyes raking him up and down quickly. Unlike before the trial, where he’d been strung tight as a bow with a rapidly tapping finger on his thigh and jumping muscle in his jaw, he now stood completely still, almost unnaturally so. Neil had seen someone sleepwalking once, and Andrew didn’t look entirely different.

“Ready to go?” Neil asked quietly.

Andrew’s blank eyes jumped to his. Instead of responding, he dug in his pocket and tossed his keys to Neil. “Getting lunch with Bee,” he said, monotone. “Don’t wait for me.”

Neil nodded and tried not to feel guilty at the flicker of relief in his chest. “Okay.”

By the time they made it outside, Betsy had slipped on ahead to retrieve her car from the parking lot, leaving Neil alone with Andrew on the sidewalk. Nicky and Aaron lingered nearby, but they kept their distance. Neil appreciated that, whatever the reason.

Andrew lowered himself down onto a step and fished out a cigarette from his suit pocket, lighting it and taking a long draw. He exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut briefly in relief, the first hint of emotion he’d shown since the trial started. After a moment’s hesitation, Neil sat down next to him, though he made sure to leave a sizable gap. He didn’t imagine Andrew wanted anyone touching him anytime soon.

When Betsy pulled up a few minutes later, Andrew stubbed out the cigarette, stood, and slid into her car without a word. Betsy smiled and waved at Neil and the others, and then they disappeared into the stream of traffic leaving the courthouse.

Nicky dropped onto the step next to Neil with an explosive sigh. Aaron remained standing, staring after Betsy’s car like it held an answer.

“Is it too early in the day to drink?” Nicky asked, tipping his head back to squint up at the noon-bright sky. “Because I could really use a drink.”

Neil shrugged. “We can stop at the liquor store on the way home.”

Nicky made a half-hearted attempt to smile. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. I don’t suppose lunch-time therapy involves bourbon, so we can get Andrew’s favorite while we’re there.”

At his own mention of Andrew, Nicky’s smile faded, and he sighed before rubbing a hand down his face and then raking it through his carefully styled hair. They’d all worn their best for the trial.

“_Fuck_,” he said, with emphasis.

“Yeah,” Neil agreed.

They stood to go and were seconds away from crossing the street to the parking lot when someone called, “Andrew!”

Neil turned around at the same time as the others and watched in confusion as a woman in a long black dress hurried toward them, head tucked down to her chest. At least until she got closer and Neil’s blood ran cold and hot simultaneously, a shiver of anger working its way through him. 

“AJ,” Cass Spear said breathlessly, stepping up to Aaron. “I mean, Andrew. I guess… that’s what you like to be called now, right?” Her chin trembled and a fresh wave of tears threatened to swell from her already reddened eyes.

“Oh shit,” Nicky whispered, staring at his cousin.

Aaron glared at Cass, surprise and anger warring on his face. No one that knew the twins at all would mistake Aaron for Andrew, at least in Neil’s opinion. But Cass didn’t seem to notice, not as she swallowed down a sob and not as she reached a trembling hand toward his face.

Aaron jerked out of her reach and stepped back. “What do you want?” he snapped.

Cass dropped her hand uncertainly. She glanced at Nicky, then Neil, the sight of whom turned her face a shade paler, before settling back on Aaron.

“I just… I had to talk to you,” Cass said. “I know you hate us… I’m… I’m so sorry, AJ. But just…” She dropped her head, sucking in several noisy breaths before continuing. “How could you say all those horrible things about your brother?”

Aaron’s jaw dropped open and Nicky made a choked noise deep in his throat. Neil was achingly, fiercely glad that Andrew had already left. On top of everything else, he didn’t need to hear this. Cass’s testimony on the stand had been bad enough.

“After everything you heard today,” Aaron spoke in a low, tight voice, “you still think it’s all a lie?”

Cass shook her head fiercely. “My son wouldn’t do those things. He wouldn’t. He was a good boy. He _loved_ you, Andrew.”

“Your son,” Aaron spat, “was a shitstain of a human being who deserved to have his brains bashed in long before Neil slit his throat.”

Cass made a choked noise and curled in on herself.

Aaron barreled on, flushed red with anger. “You were supposed to be his family. His mother. You were supposed to protect him!”

Cass raised her head and stared at Aaron as confusion slowly gave way to recognition.

“You’re not Andrew,” she whispered, eyes widening as she finally realized she had the wrong twin.

Aaron laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, no shit. _I_ am Andrew’s brother. His family. _We’re_ his family. You can keep whatever delusions you have about your dead rapist son, but don’t you ever call him Andrew’s brother again or I’ll stuff those words down your _fucking_ _throat_.”

Aaron turned around and stalked off without another word. After exchanging a quick glance, Nicky and Neil followed. They left Cass Spear crying quietly on the sidewalk by herself.

“Um, holy shit, dude,” Nicky said once they caught up with Aaron at the car. “I mean, way to take her down and everything, but… wow.”

“She deserved it,” Neil said quietly as he unlocked the doors. He looked up to find Aaron regarding him with slightly narrowed eyes. “What?”

“So you’re really fucking my brother, then?” Aaron asked bluntly.

Nicky coughed, staring back and forth between the two of them. “Um, guys…”

Neil let his hand drop from the door handle and gazed back in stony silence.

“You lie to us for months, watch Drake rape Andrew, and then you start fucking him yourself. Were you planning all that from the start or did you just think he was easy pry?”

Neil pulled back his fist to punch Aaron before he even stopped talking. Aaron staggered back a step and then took another two back on his own, unconcerned. Despite his ugly words, he looked calmer now than before and he watched Neil with a curious expression.

“Fuck you,” Neil ground out, breathing hard around his anger. “Find your own way home because you’re not riding with me.”

Aaron shrugged and left without a backward glance. Somewhere beneath the outrage, Neil suspected Aaron had been testing him, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he sat down. Nicky hesitated outside the car, looking back and forth between Neil and the direction Aaron had gone.

“Jesus, Aaron,” Nicky said softly, sitting down but not shutting his door. “What the hell is wrong with him? Shit…” He grimaced. “I better go after him and make sure he doesn’t do anything else stupid.” He hesitated before asking, “Hey, you going to be okay? You know he didn’t mean that, right? He’s just… well, he’s an asshole.”

Neil huffed out a breath. “It’s fine, Nicky. Go after him. You can probably get a ride from David and Abby still.”

Nicky nodded, still unsure. “Yeah, okay. Hey, don’t forget about the liquor run. I think we need it now more than ever.”

Neil nodded. “See you at home.”

*******

Neil took his time driving back. He knew pretty much nothing about good versus bad alcohol, so he texted Kevin and immediately got a list back with at least a dozen different items. On any other day, Neil might have considered getting only half the list just to annoy Kevin. Instead, he pushed a shopping cart around the store until he’d loaded it up with every one of the requested bottles and then stared incredulously at the total on the cash register before handing over the cash. What did it matter anyway?

Neil replayed Aaron’s verbal evisceration of Cass on the drive back. The twins’ relationship would always confuse Neil. At times they seemed to barely tolerate or notice each other, and at others they acted like they would tear down the world in each other’s defense. Neil would’ve spoken up outside the courthouse if Aaron hadn’t – no way would he let her get away with saying that shit. Only two seconds later, Aaron turned around and said his own ugly words and whatever tenuous control Neil held on his temper snapped. His knuckles still ached from the impact.

He’d cooled off by the time he pulled Andrew’s car into its usual parking spot along the front lawn. In his own backward way, Neil supposed Aaron thought he needed to protect Andrew from _him_ as well and saying the shit he had was nothing but a test. Still, he would prefer if Aaron stayed out of his way for the foreseeable future.

Renee came outside as Neil turned off the car. She offered a small smile and walked toward the car, rounding to the trunk when Neil popped it open. For the first time, he realized she had tattoos. The edge of something big on her back and shoulders peeked out from beneath her halter top as she hoisted up one of the boxes of liquor. It seemed so at odds with her cross-necklace and tranquil demeanor that Neil just stared for a moment. Renee smiled slightly when she noticed his attention.

“I don’t normally like to show it off but it’s just so warm today, you know?”

“Oh,” Neil said. “Why not?”

She shrugged lightly, readjusting her grip on the box. “Well, it’s a bit like a scar, really. It’s from another part of my life and represents a person I no longer am. I’m not ashamed of it, but I also don’t want to always be thinking about it. I imagine Andrew uses his armbands for the same purpose.”

Neil glanced down at his own armbands before Renee’s words sunk in a little more.

“Wait, you know about – ” he almost said ‘scars’, but stopped himself at the last second. “About why he wears the armbands?”

Renee’s smile grew a little more somber as she nodded. “I do. I think I told you once that I understand Andrew’s reasons for being who he is. We have those reasons in common, him and I.”

Neil regarded Renee, understanding the unspoken truths behind her words, and wondering why she’d decided to offer them up now. Finally, he turned away and looked toward the house.

“Is he back yet?” he asked, as they started walking across the lawn. The bottles clinked quietly as they moved.

“Not yet,” Renee answered. She propped the box on her hip so she could open the door. “Aaron and Nicky got home a little while ago and said he’s with Betsy. That’s probably for the best.”

Neil nodded. Aaron’s name made him bristle slightly, but he found the sting of that conversation had already faded. He had better things to worry about.

They deposited their loot on the kitchen table. Nicky and Kevin descended upon it like a pack of rabid wolves, downing shots before the blenders were even out of the cupboards. Renee watched them with a fond, if somewhat exasperated look on her face before turning back to Neil.

“What about you, Neil?” she asked quietly. “What do you need right now?”

Neil shrugged, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. “Nothing. I don’t…” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “This. This is good.” He inclined his head toward the kitchen, where Allison had joined the mixology efforts and was arguing with Kevin about a recipe. Seeming to understand what he meant, Renee just smiled. And for once, Neil didn’t fight the warm feeling in his chest as she did.

*******

Andrew got home a couple hours later. He marched straight for the stairs, ignoring everyone, and let the door slam shut behind him. Nicky winced from his spot on the floor where he’d settled down to watch tv. Kevin was snoring beside him and Matt and Dan, curled indecently close on the couch, exchanged a concerned look.

“Maybe I should… like, see if he’s alright?” Nicky hedged. The bang of another door reverberated from downstairs and he winced again.

“Don’t,” Neil warned, climbing to his feet. He threw them all a pointed look before heading after Andrew.

Part of him said to leave Andrew alone, and that he’d seek out company if he wanted it. Another part reminded him that Andrew and self-destructive behavior were not exactly strangers and he’d rather risk Andrew’s ire than not check on him at all. He swiped a bottle of bourbon from the kitchen on the way down and figured it would make a decent peace offering if nothing else.

He found Andrew propped on the window-seat in the lounge, knees pulled up toward his chest while he dangled an unlit cigarette from his fingers. He’d changed out of his stuffy court clothes and into his usual attire, although for some reason he’d put his shoes back on as well and Neil could make out the outline of a wallet in his back pocket.

“Hey,” Neil greeted. He perched on the edge of the coffee table and held out the bourbon. Andrew eyed it for a moment before reaching over to grab it. He unscrewed the cap and took a swig directly from the bottle, grimacing slightly, and then doing it twice more before finally turning his head toward Neil.

“This would mean you’re driving,” he said.

Neil raised an eyebrow. “Driving to where?”

Andrew shrugged and resumed his study of the back yard.

“Give me twenty minutes,” Neil said.

He packed quickly, throwing a couple changes of outfits into a backpack along with his toothbrush and razor. He paused momentarily in the bathroom, eyes catching on his reflection in the mirror. Self-consciously, he ran a hand through his newly grown auburn hair. It was still a little shorter than he liked, but after Allison had caught site of his true color, she’d forbade him from ever destroying it with box dye again. Honestly, he didn’t care what she thought and thought about doing it anyway. At least until Andrew made some inane comment that sounded as if he actually _liked_ it… Neil decided auburn was okay after that.

Andrew must’ve packed before Neil came downstairs, because he had his own backpack next to him when Neil came out.

“I’m going to let the others know we’re going,” Neil said, hefting Andrew’s bag over his shoulder along with his own. Andrew threw him a vaguely irritated look but didn’t comment as he pushed to his feet and walked out ahead of him.

Neil found everyone where he’d left them, though Kevin had woken up and had another glass in his hand. For his sake, Neil hoped it contained water.

Nicky’s eyes jumped immediately to the bags. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. We’re just getting out of here for a night or two,” Neil explained. “I’ll text you guys later.”

Dan frowned a little. “Alright. Be careful.”

Neil nodded. As he turned to go, Allison blocked his way, giving his scuffed bag an unimpressed glance. “Where are you heading?”

Neil responded the same way Andrew had, with a shrug. “Dunno. Just somewhere.”

Allison sighed and held up a finger as she started sorting through her phone. “There,” she said, after a couple minutes. “I just texted you an address and a phone number.”

“Um, thanks?” Neil said, confused.

“I guess I might as well tell you I rented us a vacation home on the Isle of Palms,” Allison said with a dramatic eye-roll. “I was going to surprise everyone in a few days, but apparently some of us are inpatient.” She gave Neil a look. “I just checked with the owners and it’s free, so you guys can check in tonight and stay until whenever.”

Neil blinked. “A vacation home?”

“I assume you’re familiar with the concept?” Allison asked. When Neil didn’t respond, she smirked, though it was edged with fondness. “I forgot who I’m talking to. Of course, you’re not. Yes, darling, a vacation home. Where fun and relaxation happen. Now go on. You and the clawed one spend some time together and the rest of us will think about coming up in a few days. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Neil said, still feeling a little taken back by such a gesture. “That’s… thank you.”

She smiled again, more genuinely. “You are welcome. Now hurry and go before your boyfriend hot-wires his own car and leaves without you.”

*******

The drive took a little over two hours. They spent most of that in silence, which Neil didn’t mind. That wasn’t a huge change from the norm, and Neil just felt relieved Andrew was speaking at all.

Andrew’s reaction to their destination consisted of a pause and a shrug, which told Neil he didn’t hate the idea. By the time they arrived, picked up the keys from the rental office, and eased the car into a canopied carport, the sun had sunk nearly behind the horizon. Even so, it cast the sky in a flurry of orange and purple and blue, and Neil couldn’t help but stare at the breathtaking sight.

They unloaded quickly, stowing away any perishables they’d picked up from their grocery run and dumping their bags in the front room before they dragged blankets and drinks and snacks out to the balcony and settled side by side to watch the sunset. Only a little light remained in the sky by that point and the ocean itself was vast and dark.

Andrew nudged the bourbon toward Neil and he only hesitated briefly before wrapping his hand around it and taking a swig. It burned and Neil ended up coughing for a solid thirty seconds before he managed to straighten up.

“This is what happens when you don’t drink,” Andrew commented.

Neil scoffed. “What? You still have feeling left in your throat?”

Even in the dim light, he could make out Andrew’s eye roll. Instead of irritating him, it helped ease the band of tension around Neil’s chest, because a sarcastic Andrew was a normal Andrew. Bit by bit, he was crawling out of that dark place in his head and returning to himself.

Neil worked up the nerve to take another swallow, and by the third time, it didn’t burn so bad. Or maybe he was just getting drunk. Either way, he found himself relaxing into his chair and studying the night sky. That feeling of freedom, of choice, hit him again and he didn’t question it. With Andrew by his side and the Foxes at his back, it felt like anything was possible. And finally, after years of searching and months of wondering, he knew what to call that warm feeling in his chest.

Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, only one chapter left! I'm having very mixed feelings about this almost being done, though I doubt I'll be able to let go of this AU any time soon. So many opportunities for more!
> 
> The final chapter will wrap up a lot of the background things (e.g. the class-action lawsuit, Riko and Tetsuji's fate, Jean, etc.) and might have some time-jumps to give us a glimpse into the boys' (and the Foxes') future. Promise it's good!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! :)


	30. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! 
> 
> Note: there's a 3-4 year time-jump between chapter 29 and 30

Once upon a time, a cell door creaked open and a stranger walked inside, dangling hope and choice and freedom in front of a boy who never thought he could call those things his own. Hurt and alone, desperate for change, despite his resolution to never admit to any such thing, the boy took a wild chance. He said yes.

He kept saying yes. To being someone’s brother and cousin, someone’s friend, to being pack. To family.

And then a scared little fox came along. The boy saw the same fear and mistrust in the fox’s eyes that lived in his own. It made him hate the fox a little bit. It also made him determined to erase anything but his own reflection in those startlingly blue eyes.

And so he did.

*******

Andrew quietly pushed open the door to the house he and Neil shared, not bothering to switch on the entryway lights. They’d lived there, in Columbia, for a little over a year now. At first it was out of necessity, as Palmetto purchased and overhauled Easthaven, turning it into what an omega rehabilitation center should actually be. They modeled it after the Palmetto shelter, only with funding and support from half a dozen packs and the ORC itself. Aptly renamed the Foxhole Center, Andrew, Neil, and many others worked tirelessly to create a safe haven for shifters of any status or gender who needed help.

They moved out of necessity, but they stayed because they wanted to. Neither of them ever had a home to call completely their own before. The big house in Palmetto was where they found each other, but they realized what made it home was each other, and not anything else. More often than not, they had at least one of the Foxes crashed on their couch or crowded around their dining room table. They also had moments alone. Andrew liked the quiet. He knew Neil did too, and so they made the century-old farmhouse just outside of the city their own.

Andrew toed off his boots and tossed his jacket and keys down beside them. A small light glowed from the kitchen and he huffed softly, knowing Neil had waited up despite Andrew telling him how late he’d be.

He found Neil hunched over the dining room table, one hand wrapped around what seemed to be a cold coffee mug and the other holding his phone as he scrolled mindlessly through news feeds. His arms were bare, dotted with faded scars of more difficult days and Andrew’s stomach did a little flip thinking about finding Neil hurt and still on that cold basement floor, sure even for a very brief time, that he’d been too late.

Neil glanced up and his face split into an immediate smile, though it faded somewhat at the look on Andrew’s.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice tinged with concern. “What’s – ”

Neil grunted in surprise when Andrew hauled back his chair, straddled his waist, and brought their mouths together for a bruising kiss. He gripped either side of Neil’s head, carding his fingers through his dark red hair, and allowed his weight to rest on Neil’s thighs while their lips and tongues battled for more. Neil moaned softly into his mouth and slid his hands down Andrew’s back to rest just above his hips.

Over the years they had grown comfortable with each other and no longer needed to exchange yeses and nos for every touch. They still did though, at times. Andrew would probably always need to. He trusted Neil, more than himself some days. He knew Neil would respect his limits, as Andrew did his, and when Andrew didn’t know what he wanted or needed, somehow Neil knew to ask. Vulnerable was not a word Andrew would ever call himself, but time and growth had softened both of their edges, and Andrew no longer resisted how well they fit.

The kiss lost its initial frantic edge, taking on something deeper. Andrew rolled his hips, pleased to feel Neil already rock hard inside his jeans. Neil made a scandalous noise, jerking helplessly at the friction and tightening his grip on Andrew’s waist.

“Andrew,” Neil said breathlessly, pulling back just enough to speak. Andrew chased his lips and Neil grinned against his cheek. “I hope you know I’m never going to listen to you about not waiting up again, if this is what I get to look forward to.”

Andrew growled under his breath and responded with another slow roll of his hips. Neil’s breathing stuttered. Andrew bit back his own moan, just as hard as Neil now, but refusing to give him the satisfaction. Not yet, at least.

After several minutes, they untangled themselves long enough to stand and stumble their way into the bedroom, clothes disappearing along the way. A shirt thrown over the couch, a pair of boxers discarded on the floor. A small shiver of anxiety worked its way through Andrew as he dropped his last item of clothing on the carpet, skin pebbling slightly in the evening air. Neil, stupid Neil, noticed his hesitation (because he noticed fucking everything). Moving slowly, eyes locked together, he pulled Andrew’s hand up to his bare chest and laid it over the iron-shaped scar, just as he had the first time he revealed this part of his story. Andrew spread his fingers across the rough tissue, memorizing its shape and texture as he’d done many times before. It felt like Neil, like only Neil, and the anxiety passed.

“Good?” Neil asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Andrew exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered back.

Once in the bedroom, Neil threw himself on the mattress, spreading his limbs wide, every inch of skin on full display. Andrew’s pulse sped up a bit and any heat that had been lost returned in full force. Neil smirked up at Andrew knowingly.

“Shut up,” Andrew said, even as he crawled onto the mattress and slid his hands up Neil’s legs.

Neil laughed softly. “Make me,” he challenged.

When Andrew lowered himself over Neil and swiped a tongue up Neil’s sensitive flesh, he didn’t exactly shut up. But he did stop talking.

Some time later they reversed positions. Andrew on his back, chest rising and falling quickly as Neil knelt between his legs and did wicked things with his smart mouth.

For all his inexperience when they’d first met, Neil caught on quickly, eager to try new things and discover what he, and Andrew, liked best. They had many stops and starts. Many moments where one or both of them needed to stop, needed to establish a limit around something. It was a learning process still. Sometimes Andrew needed to disappear onto the back porch and smoke his way through a pack of cigarettes. Sometimes he needed to not be touched at all for several days. They always came back together though. A bit hesitant, a bit unsure, but they always made their way back.

Neil pulled off with an obscene popping sound that made Andrew roll his eyes even as he struggled not to let them roll back in his head. He relaxed his knees, letting his legs fall open a little further to let Neil know what he wanted. Neil did pause then, searching Andrew’s gaze carefully as he traced his thumbs over Andrew’s hipbones in small, circular patterns. He didn’t ask if he was sure, and he didn’t ask for a yes or no, but Andrew knew he’d wait for one nonetheless. Because he was frustrating like that.

“_Yes_,” Andrew breathed. “Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

Neil smiled and continued tracing patterns into his flesh. “If you do, I’ll stop.”

Andrew swallowed heavily. “300%, Neil.”

It went like this: cold, wet heat, pressure, a twinge of pain, a feeling of fullness, tension then relaxation, the slide of scarred skin against his own, slick, sweat, surprising sparks of pleasure deep inside, heat coiling in his belly, building, building, building… Neil.

Andrew came with a choked groan, throwing his head back against the pillow while Neil pressed feather-light kisses into his neck and murmured incoherently. Connected in every sense of the word, Neil found Andrew’s lips and continued moving slowly for a minute before carefully pulling out. He knew how sensitive Andrew was after an orgasm, so he finished himself quickly with a practiced hand and came with a loud moan. Andrew swallowed it down greedily and gripped Neil’s other hand tightly where it lay draped across Andrew’s stomach.

Neil collapsed face-down into the mattress, breathing heavily. He turned his head toward Andrew and blinked sleepily, a soft smile pulling his lips upward.

They both fell asleep without saying a word.

*******

The Foxhole Center opened on July 6th, which meant all the Foxes were in town and they wanted to celebrate the opening and the 4th together. Andrew and Neil’s house was the de facto location for such events (a fact Andrew complained about but secretly kind of liked), so they spent the day before stocking up on food, drinks, and an impressively large array of fireworks. Nicky and his boyfriend Eric got into town first, flying in from Germany. After years of a long-distance relationship and barely seeing each other, Nicky and Eric finally took the plunge and agreed to spend equal parts of each year in Germany and South Carolina. Lately, they’d stayed for longer and longer periods of time in Palmetto, and Andrew suspected it would become a permanent move at some point soon.

Aaron, Kevin, and Robin rolled in together. Aaron, even though he was on summer break, still looked half asleep on his feet from his first year of med school. He had made history as the first omega ever admitted into that program. Andrew knew he gave himself a hard time about that, feeling an extra sense of pressure to not only succeed, but excel. 

Of course, the only reason Aaron could even attend his school was thanks to the efforts of the ORC and Jeremy Knox. After years of litigation, of what seemed at times like certain failure, an elderly beta judge read a ruling that shifted the ground beneath their feet.

Andrew would never forget that day, sitting on the couch next to Neil, the Foxes crowded around the room, every eye and ear glued to the tv. The room erupted into cheers when the ruling flashed across the screen. Andrew didn’t react at first, not until Neil squeezed his hand and offered him a watery smile. Then they’d kissed and studiously ignored the whistles and catcalls of the others.

Dozens of laws were repealed overnight. Culture, however, didn’t change quite so easily. Protests sparked across the country. Many packs closed down their borders for fear of outside interference. Bidding continued secretly, pushed far underground. Inequity continued. But then again, so did the Palmetto Foxes.

Andrew sipped from a slightly warm beer as he barbecued burgers and hot dogs in the backyard, muggy summer heat plastering his hair to his forehead. Everyone had arrived by that point, scattered throughout the house or the back yard. He could hear the muted whir of a blender as Nicky mixed drinks in the kitchen and the high, tinkling laugh of Allison as she teased and fussed over Neil’s overly long hair. In the far corner of the yard, Dan and Matt lay curled together in the hammock, looking sickeningly content in the way only newlyweds could.

Kevin dropped into a chair near the grill and sighed loudly.

“You know,” Andrew said, without turning toward him. “You can just say words without making a dramatic entrance first.”

“I don’t make dramatic entrances,” Kevin argued, looking offended.

Andrew raised a brow. “Right. You’re just naturally expressive.”

Kevin scoffed. “Whatever. Have you seen Jeremy and Jean since they got into town? I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Jean actually looked… happy.”

Andrew thought about for a moment and shrugged. “Makes sense.”

“How does that make sense?”

“Jeremy is annoyingly positive and upbeat. Little surprise Jean’s been brainwashed into being the same. Besides,” Andrew continued, “you are only talking about this because you’re jealous.”

Kevin scowled. “I am not _jealous_. I have a girlfriend.”

“Delusions,” Andrew said, turning back to the grill. He quickly moved the cooked burgers off and replaced them with more. “Haven’t we been over this?”

Kevin sighed again and sipped from his drink. Someone (Nicky) had adorned it with a tiny pink umbrella.

Andrew didn’t spend much time thinking about Jean Moreau, but Neil, for some reason, did. Andrew suspected it came from misplaced guilt, not only what happened to Jean before Riko’s arrest, but that Jean reminded Neil of what his life might’ve been like. If his mother hadn’t run away with him when she did, if they’d been caught somewhere along the way. If the Foxes hadn’t come along in time.

David had offered Jean a choice to stay in Palmetto, which he declined. Instead he moved across the country, provisionally taken in by the Trojans to rest and recover. Only somewhere along the way he’d decided to stay. Neil talked with him every so often, Andrew knew, but he never told Andrew what they discussed, and Andrew didn’t ask. If it were important, Neil would tell him. 

Andrew didn’t need to turn around to recognize Neil when he wandered up behind him and rested a chin on Andrew’s shoulder. He blew out a breath, smelling faintly of whisky.

“You smell good enough to eat,” Neil said in a lame attempt at a pick-up line.

Andrew snorted. “I think that’s the barbecue.”

Neil shook his head. “Barbecue’s not what I want in my mouth right now.”

A wave of heat rolled down Andrew’s body. He curled his toes into the grass.

“Neil.”

“Yeah?” Neil said, breath ghosting over Andrew’s neck.

“You are going to make me burn the food. Go sit down before you hurt yourself.”

Neil laughed softly. He nuzzled into Andrew’s neck, which he knew would make goosebumps break out everywhere, and then laughed some more as he danced away, and Andrew swatted at him with a spatula.

A lazy afternoon gave way to a lazy evening. Andrew settled into a lawn-chair between Neil and Renee, the others spaced out around them, while David forcibly excused Matt from fireworks duty before he burned his face off. He grouched and grumbled about having to do everything himself, but Andrew caught him smiling as the first firework exploded and light flashed across the yard.

Neil jumped a little the first few times the boom sounded, looking tense and antsy. Slowly, with his hand clasped in Andrew’s, he relaxed and started to enjoy it.

By some unspoken agreement, the Foxes pushed all the furniture out of the way that night and piled pillows and blankets across the entire floor, arranging themselves in a large circle around the room. As Andrew settled onto his side, facing Neil, he spent a moment thinking longingly of their soft mattress. Behind him, Kevin snored loudly. Across from him, Dan and Matt whispered beneath their blankets. A few feet away, Aaron grunted as Nicky rolled over and smacked him in the stomach with his arm. Allison, Renee, and Robin curled together in a tangle of limbs. And Neil, he watched Andrew with a soft look in his eyes.

Andrew listened to the sounds of his family and closed his eyes.

*******

And the boy knew, for the first time in his life, that he and the fox would never be alone again.

THE END

*******

Ghosts That We Knew, _Mumford and Sons_

You saw my pain, washed out in the rain  
Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins  
But you saw no fault no cracks in my heart  
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart

But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you  
And we'll live a long life

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright  
But I will hold as long as you like  
Just promise me we'll be alright

So lead me back  
Turn south from that place  
And close my eyes from my recent disgrace  
'Cause you know my call  
We'll share my all  
Now children come and they will hear me roar

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright  
But I will hold as long as you like  
Just promise me we'll be alright

But hold me still bury my heart on the cold  
And hold me still bury my heart on the cold

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright  
But I will hold on as long as you like  
Just promise me that we'll be alright

But the ghosts that we knew made us blackened or blue  
But we'll live a long life

And the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view  
And we'll live a long life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all! Holy moly, I can't believe it's done and I'm marking this story as complete. I have a vague idea for a sequel (or spin-off?) and obviously this chapter leaves a lot open to explore, but it'll be a minute before I post anything. Lots of plotting and planning to do first!
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for reading and going on this journey with me. You have all been amazing. :)


	31. Extra Content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a list of shifter forms, so here you go! :)

**Andrew** – Ocelot

**Neil** – Arctic Fox

**Kevin** – Horse (Thoroughbred, of course)

**Aaron** – Ocelot (because they are twinyards!)

**Nicky** – Grey wolf

**Robin** – White-tailed Deer

**Renee** – Grasshopper Mouse

**Matt** – Bison

**Dan** – Red-tailed Hawk

**Allison – **Wolverine

**Seth** – Copperhead Snake

**David** – Grizzly Bear

**Abby** – Opossum

**Betsy** – Beaver

**Katelyn** – Grey Squirrel

**Jean** – Red Wolf

**Jeremy** – Mountain Lion

**Riko** – Raven

**Nathan** – Amur Tiger

**Mary** – Red Fox


End file.
